


Somebody To Love

by starbuckmeggie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: California, F/M, Family, Fluff, Livermoore, Post Series, Post-Canon, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Santa Monica, Santos Administration, Wedding, friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22387600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckmeggie/pseuds/starbuckmeggie
Summary: Celebrating life's big moments is better when you're together. CJ and Danny are getting married; what's a better excuse for a family reunion?
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 23
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

LAX is a huge airport. I always forget that. Granted, I haven’t flown into it so many times that I can be blasé about it but I would think I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed. I just don’t want to seem like a country bumpkin as I try to make my way to the luggage pickup area. If I can find that, I should be okay.

It takes me another twenty minutes to find my way to baggage claim and another twenty before bags and suitcases start to make their way down the carousel. I breathe an involuntary sigh of relief as mine come into view. I’ve spent too many years now traveling on private planes where finding my luggage hasn’t been a concern, so I’m always paranoid about it when I fly commercial. Too many people lose too many—

“Donnatella!”

My head jerks up, a smile spreading across my face as I see CJ barreling at me. “Hey!” I exclaim as we hug, her arms so tight around me I almost can’t breathe. I’m fairly certain I’m hugging her just as tightly. “I thought you were gonna wait outside so you didn’t have to park.”

“I couldn’t do that to you,” she answers, releasing me marginally. “Besides, I couldn’t wait to see you.” She looks around, her face falling a little. “No Josh?”

I shake my head ruefully, managing to grab my bags before they spin past me. “Not for a couple of days. He had an emergency come up late last night so I’m going to reschedule his flight later this week.”

“But he’ll be here—”

“In time for your wedding. I checked my messages after the plane landed and everything is mostly handled. He thinks he should be able to get out here by Wednesday afternoon at the latest. It’s good, though—you know how quickly he gets bored and there’s going to be so much wedding talk that we’d probably have to keep him on a leash so he wouldn’t wander away.”

She throws her head back and laughs, grabbing one of my bags as she steers me toward the exit. I blink in surprise at the bright California afternoon sunshine, fishing around in my purse for my sunglasses. Once I can see again, I can’t help but be shocked by the sheer volume of cars in the parking lot. I’m positive I’ve flown into LA before and shouldn’t be so surprised, but I’m also fairly certain the last time I was here was in a work capacity. Flying in this way is a bit different.

“You got here just in time for a little bit of gridlock. Makes rush hour in DC seem like small potatoes.”

“Can’t wait,” I answer, tossing my stuff into the trunk of CJ’s Mustang.

“We can take some of the back roads. We won’t get there faster but we’ll be stopped less, so that’ll be nice.”

I chuckle as we get situated in the car, and I pull my hair back into a ponytail before the convertible does its damage. “Whatever you say,” I tell her as she tosses me a baseball cap—Yankees. Josh would lose his mind if he saw this. “You’re the bride. I’m just here for moral support.”

“You’re my maid of honor!” she exclaims. “Moral support is the least of your duties.”

“CJ, have you ever been _in_ a wedding? When everything starts to implode you’re going to need me to talk you off the ledge.”

“There will be no ledges,” she insists as we creep toward the exit, batting my hand away when I try to pay the parking fee. “No meltdowns, nothing to fall apart. The only reason we’re not doing this at the courthouse is because we thought it’d be fun to have some friends over for a party, but since most of our friends are still on the east coast, we figured the only way we’d get any of you out here for a party would be to have an actual wedding.”

“Sound logic,” I tease. “So, you don’t think something could go wrong?”

“Oh, I’m positive something could go wrong. As long as the day ends with me being married to Danny, I don’t really care.” The sentiment nearly chokes me up but before I can respond she shrugs, guiding the car out onto the road. “We’ve given ourselves zero time to plan all this so it’s very likely things will go awry. Or, everything could be great because I won’t have time to dwell on the minutia. I have my dress, your dress arrived safe and sound last week, you’re here, Danny’s best man is already local, our favorite vineyard happened to have a cancellation—”

“Oh, so that’s why there’s all this rush. Because when you called and said your wedding was in less than a month, I wondered if…”

CJ shoots me a death glare despite the speed at which she’s driving. “Donna Moss, just what are you implying?”

“First of all, keep your eyes on the road. Second, I didn’t know if you were expecting.”

“If I was pregnant, I would have told you before now. And also, this is 2007—people don’t have to get married because of a baby.”

“I know _that_ , and I wouldn’t assume that’s the reason you were getting married. I just wondered if you thought the wedding thing would be easier earlier in the pregnancy.”

“Well, there are no buns in my oven, so I’m free to get completely trashed at my wedding.”

“We know how to keep it classy, don’t we?”

She glances my way again, this time grinning from ear to ear. “Always.” She focuses back on navigating through the thick but manageable traffic and makes a slight face. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell Josh?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Donna!”

“CJ!” I mock.

“What about that whole sisters before misters thing? Chicks before dicks?”

“Did we make that pact at some point?”

“I’m serious!”

“As long as it’s not, you know, a matter of national security, your secret is safe with me.”

Without looking, she reaches over and smacks my arm, hard enough to make me wince. “You’re terrible.”

“Might I remind you that my dress has no sleeves? Do you want your bridesmaid with a big bruise on her arm?”

“Not bridesmaid—you’re maid of honor _and_ my only official witness to this whole affair. Besides…” she glances over at me as we hit a stop light, grinning cheekily. “I’m sure you and Josh have experience with covering up the odd, strategically placed bruise from time to time.”

I can actually feel my face turn red, heat rushing to my cheeks so quickly I feel like I’m going to pass out. “CJ!” I squeak, burying my face in my hands. “Oh, my God!”

She lets out a laugh—a huge, deep belly laugh. “You’re both consenting adults in a grownup relationship. You’re allowed to have loud, raunchy, borderline painful sex. There’s no shame.”

“You’re awful,” I tell her, my voice muffled by my hands.

“Hey, I know a little something about repressed desire. I know it can manifest itself with enthusiasm.”

“Since you’re so keen on this subject,” I tell her, composing myself enough to look up. “He likes to grab my ass and hips, so that’s where most of the bruises show up.”

“Good to know,” she answers, though I swear her smile looks a little strained. Ahh—she can dish it out but can’t take it in.

“My nipples, too. They tend to get a little bruised because he likes to—”

“Got it!” she exclaims, her cheeks actually turning pink. “Geez, Donna!”

“What? You _don’t_ want to hear about his incredible suction? Because the nipples aren’t the only place where—”

“Ugh! All right! You win. I can’t hear the details of Josh Lyman’s mating habits.”

“Are you sure? Because you brought it up.”

“I’m sure!” she yelps, her forehead wrinkling in concentration as she maneuvers through the slow traffic. “I’ve been outplayed again. Well done.”

“Don’t start it if you can’t finish it.” This isn’t even the first time we’ve had this sort of tiff. She likes to tease me about Josh but gets freaked out when I start to play along. Granted, we’ve not come close to talking about bruises and suction before this, and it probably won’t even be the last time this week that we have this sort of standoff.

The car crawls to a stop, the afternoon LA gridlock going into full effect. CJ grins over at me, stretching out her arms for a hug. “God, I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I answer as I return the hug, hoping her foot stays on the brake pedal. “Almost eight months is a long time.”

“God, has it been that long?” She settles back into her seat, flipping on the blinker about half a second before yanking the car onto an exit. The car behind us honks their horn, but it sounds more like a habit than anything else.

“Since a couple of nights before the Inauguration,” I answer with a shrug. “I didn’t get to see you before you took off for the airport.”

“In fairness, you were a little busy on Inauguration Day,” she teases, guiding us through a series of turns in a nice, well-manicured neighborhood—the traffic is still slow, but at least it’s not at a standstill. CJ’s not wrong about being extremely busy on Inauguration Day, either, which makes me all the happier that we had a small get together a couple of nights before. CJ was there, and Sam, Charlie, Will, and Kate. CJ had offered to have everyone over to her place, but it was full of moving boxes, not to mention all the furniture was wrapped and propped up haphazardly. So everyone gathered at what was then Josh’s apartment—even though I’d officially claimed to just be staying with him for a while, in hindsight it definitely looked like we were living together. I was definitely playing hostess that night, not to mention we’d moved in more than half of my stuff by that point. It didn’t look like a bachelor pad, it looked like a cozy little nest. _Now_ I can completely understand why CJ would give me _that_ look or use _that_ tone when I’d insist we weren’t living together. At any rate, having a few people over to reminisce for a few hours, to unwind and prepare for the next step and catch up on each other’s lives was wonderful, but it unfortunately marked the last time I saw a lot of those people. CJ and I certainly speak on the phone fairly often, and when we can’t talk we email, but I haven’t seen her since January.

“Eight months is definitely too long. We shouldn’t let that happen again,” CJ says resolutely.

“I don’t know that we have much say in that, Ceej,” I answer with a chuckle. “Unless one or both of us plans on quitting our jobs and relocating.”

“I just don’t want the next time I see you to be at _your_ wedding, you know?”

I can’t help but choke and sputter just a little. “I’m nowhere near marriage right now, so I would hope we’ll see each other before then.”

“‘Nowhere near marriage’,” she repeats dubiously. “You _are_ still with Josh, right? That hasn’t changed?”

“CJ, Josh and I have only been dating since November. We’re not exactly—”

“You’re not ‘dating,’ you’re cohabitating. You want me to believe that your relationship is so tenuous that you don’t think you’re in it for the long haul?”

“Of course not! Josh and I are solid. We’re just not thinking about getting married yet.”

“Well, all the more reason that I don’t want to wait for you two to get your act together before we visit again.”

I sigh and shake my head; everyone is in a rush for me to marry Josh. It was less than two months ago we were visiting his mother in Florida and she wasted no time in hinting that she was up and ready for a ceremony if we were. My mom has been grilling me about it since Christmas when my parents came to stay with us. I would suspect Mrs. Lyman has been doing the same to her son. My brothers have even poked at me a few times, which struck me as odd considering they’ve had very little interest in my personal life in years. The people we work with keep trying to talk up marriage. It’s not even unheard of for President Santos to extol the virtues of that particular institution as well as the grand affair a wedding between me and Josh could be. When it comes down to it, though, I don’t think we’re there yet. I love living with him and everything about our life together, but marriage feels like a rush at this point. It took us so long to get to where we are and I’m not interested in hurrying through it. Right now, everything is for us; it’s all our decisions and on our terms. We’re happy–not usually obnoxiously so—and we do have to work at our relationship, but everything is good right now.

“So, what’s on the docket for the next few days?” I ask, hoping to get her mind off the idea of me and Josh and a wedding.

“I hope you’ve been carbo-loading because this is gonna be a marathon,” CJ says, returning her attention to the traffic in front of us. “We have _some_ downtime tonight. I took care of a lot of running around before your flight got in because I wanted to make sure we had time to actually just hang out a little.”

“Not that I want to turn down hanging out with you, but if there’s wedding stuff that needs to be done, don’t put it off because I’m here. Put me to work.”

“Oh, don’t worry—I will. I just didn’t want you to step off the plan to a to-do list. You know—‘Welcome to California! Can you go to the florist for me?’ Plus, I could really use an afternoon to unwind. No matter how small we tried to keep this thing—and it is pretty small, all things considered—there are still a million things to do and organize and dozens of calls to make, not to mention that I’m doing almost all of it remotely, so that’s an added level of difficultly—”

“Wait—remotely? Have you been out of LA lately or something?”

“Did I not tell you where the wedding is going to be?” she asks, her forehead wrinkling in confusion as she brakes heavily just before yanking the car sideways into a clear space in the next lane.

I close my eyes for a few seconds, sure we’re going to plow into the back of the car in front of us. “I don’t think so. You told me back when you first called that you were looking at resorts and hotels and stuff but had already decided on the date so I thought…I don’t know, that you’d gone with City Hall or something. You just told me about some vineyard becoming available…”

“Well, we were going to do the City Hall thing even though it didn’t solve the problem of where to have a reception. We spent almost a week trying to find a venue but with our date being so close, our options were limited. We didn’t want to give ourselves much more than a month between the engagement and the wedding because we figured a few months would turn into a year and everything would get really out of hand. But we got a call a couple of weeks ago from one of the places we’d looked into initially and they had a sudden cancellation for the day we wanted so we grabbed it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but everything has been so insane the last few weeks it must have slipped my mind.”

“Hey, I’m just along for the ride,” I answer. “I’ll stand where you need me to stand and smile for the camera and all that good stuff. Just let me know so I can adjust Josh’s flight plans accordingly.”

“Ah, damn it. I wasn’t even thinking about that when you got in alone. I was planning for us to head there on Wednesday afternoon or evening so he might have to fly in there instead of here. Donna, I’m sorry. I really wasn’t thinking at all that something might keep Josh from getting in with you and never accounted for that. This is such a mess—”

“CJ, it’s not that big of a deal. Josh’ll get over it. It’s usually not an issue for him to switch flights at the last minute. His position offers him some flexibility with some airlines—it happens pretty often for him. I’ll just need to know if he should land in a different airport or something.” I look over at her and notice she still looks a little distraught so I reach over and pat her arm. “Seriously—don’t stress about this part. This is an easy fix. Even if he has to fly into LAX and hop another plane, it’ll be all right. The longer he’s on a plane, the longer he’ll be able to work and the more time he’ll have to focus on the festivities.” Not that I would ever mention this to her at this point—and she probably knows—but it’s really a huge pain in the ass to make changes for the Chief of Staff. Last minute switcheroos really make his details’ heads explode.

She lets out a little breath though not all the tension leaves her body. “Might I suggest, when the time comes, that you two elope? Don’t even give it a month—get the ring and find a courthouse.”

I chuckle a little, shaking my head—not because I don’t believe her but because I’m fairly certain that, should I marry Josh, his mother would kill us if she wasn’t invited. My family might be able to get over it, seeing as how my brothers have all had fairly large ceremonies, but I think Mrs. Lyman would never forgive us if we denied her some sort of celebration. “Okay, so _where_ is the wedding going to be?”

She steers the car through a few more turns, grinning as we’re suddenly on comparatively less crowded streets—we must be deeper into the residential areas. “Believe it or not, it’s called Concannon Vineyard.”

I can’t help but snort. “Yeah right.” She just nods her head in response. “Seriously? Did you two buy a vineyard or something?”

“Just an amazing coincidence, I swear. We found it _months_ ago. Obviously, California has a lot of vineyards, and not just in Napa, and because our schedules are much less demanding now, we wanted to make a point of exploring as much of our surroundings as we could. Sort of make up for lost time, you know?” I nod because I _do_ know. Josh and I are extraordinarily busy all the time but we force ourselves to stop whenever possible and try to take it all in, even if it’s as simple as walking to work when the cherry blossoms are in bloom. “We started with exploring some of the stuff within an hour or so of here. Anyway, we were at some work function of mine and when I introduced Danny, someone asked if he had any connection to the vineyard. We looked into the place—not because we thought Danny was related but because it was fun—and went to visit and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Everything there is so beautiful, the wine is fabulous, there are lots of places to explore, and we made it a point to go there several times. We’ve recommended people and it was actually the first place we looked into but they were booked. Obviously. Because normal people plan months or years ahead of time for days like this. But they called us out of the blue and told us they’d had a cancellation and it was ours if we wanted it. It meant a lot more work on our end because we’ve had to inform people that we were getting married at the last minute, then tell people who were planning to be in Santa Monica that that was off, we had to figure out how to take food and decorations and flowers and all this other crap that we’d been planning on doing here and get it there, but since we can’t go back and forth every day, there’s a lot that can’t be done in person so it’s going to have to be handled when we get there. And, I just found out, that I somehow managed to not tell my own damn bridesmaid that I’d changed wedding locations. I guess I was thinking that since you two were coming here I’d just drag you along—”

“Breathe, CJ!” I exclaim. “Like I said, I’ll go wherever you need me to. But…just how far away is this place?”

She cringes then smiles sheepishly. “It’s about an hour away from San Francisco.”

I try to do the mental math, but I think I need to hear her say it out loud. “Which is how far from here exactly?”

“A little over five hours from here.”

I blink a few times, shaking my head. “Oooookaaaaaay…”

“Yeah. I really dropped the ball on this one, didn’t I? I’m so sorry—there has just been a million things going on and all I could focus on was you getting here so I never thought about anything…obviously.”

Other than the surprise of suddenly going to San Francisco, it’s not that big of a deal for me. For Josh, it might be another story. “All right, well…are we flying up there? You said Wednesday, right? I’ll need to check with Josh and see if he can get here on Tuesday and drive up with us or if he’ll have to fly into San Francisco. I’ll have to get in touch with Josh’s detail so they can make sure your venue is secure enough for them. Then I need to check and see if I can change our flights out on Sunday instead of driving back to LA and leaving from here. I’ll have to—”

“Don’t worry about finding a room,” CJ interrupts quickly. “Danny and I reserved a few rooms at a hotel—one for us, one for you and Josh, and one for Danny’s best man. That’s on us. As long as the detail is good with it, and they should be. I had enough sense to do some preliminary checks on it—that’s not a problem. We were planning to drive up there because we have stuff we need to bring and I don’t want to trust an airplane with my dress or Danny’s suit. So, yes, the goal is to leave on Wednesday and it’ll depend on his schedule, but it might just be easier for him to fly into San Francisco then; either we can pick him up or he can rent a car.” She looks over at me for a few seconds, her face suddenly lined with worry. “I really am sorry. I screwed the pooch on this one, didn’t I?”

“I’m still trying to get my brain to catch up but it’s okay, CJ. Don’t stress yourself too much about this. I just wasn’t expecting to go to San Francisco while I was here.”

“Well, technically, we’re not going to be in San Francisco. We don’t even have to go near it, not unless we’re picking up Josh, but I promise you it’s a beautiful drive, at least once we get out of LA. We don’t have to drive straight through, either. If we leave early enough on Wednesday, we’ll have plenty of time for pit stops and sightseeing if anything strikes your fancy…I really didn’t tell you any of this?”

I lift my eyebrow, even though she can’t see it. “CJ, who are you talking to? My job in life used to be keeping Josh Lyman organized. I knew the names and schedule of every major and minor player DC. Do you really think I’d forget if you told me you’d moved your wedding from Santa Monica to Concannon Vineyard?”

She makes a face, smiling a moment later. “Damn. I guess I forgot just how compulsive you are.” She pauses for a moment. “Do you think Josh is going to be mad?”

I wave my hand dismissively. “He’ll be fine. He’s not a big fan of LA anyway. And if he’s irritated, well, I have ways of calming him down.”

“Ew! Donna, ew! I don’t want to know about your sex games!”

“Who mentioned sex? Did anyone here mention sex? You’re the one with a filthy mind.”

She has the good grace to look sheepish. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I just automatically assumed you meant something about your ‘stress relief.’”

“Apology accepted.” We’re quiet for a few moments and I watch the well-manicured lawns and modest-though-undoubtedly expensive houses go by. “For the record, I was actually talking about sex.”

“Oh, come on!” CJ groans. “I don’t want to think about the two of you like that!”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, consider it payback for changing your wedding venue and not telling me. Now we’re even.”

She makes a face but says nothing as we pull up in front of an adorable bungalow. The pictures didn’t do it justice. “It’s lovely, CJ! Why didn’t you two decide to get married here?”

“We talked about it,” she answers as she parks the car, hopping out a moment later. “Then I realized I didn’t want to have that many people stomping through where we live. We’d have to deal with caterers and their staff, not to mention all the people wandering in and out. Even if we did it out by the pool, well, it’s a pool. Those don’t usually mix well with alcohol.”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot you had a pool. I know where I’m going to be for the next few days.” I pull myself out of the car, too, tossing the ball cap into the backseat. I grab my luggage from the trunk and follow CJ inside. It strikes me as odd for a moment that I don’t have to stop and wait for several members of a security detail to sweep the area before I go in. I guess it’s been a while since I went somewhere without Josh, and security is always doing sweeps for him. We’ve been told that the detail will be able to ease off a little if and when the threat from Kazakhstan dies down, but for now, it’s become part of our normal life.

“I don’t think so, sister. This isn’t a vacation. We don’t have time for you to lounge by the pool while you fry yourself to a crisp.”

I make a disgruntled noise, but it’s only in jest—I knew without a doubt before ever setting foot on the plane today that this wasn’t going to be a leisure trip. Not that I thought I wouldn’t have fun, but CJ warned me that she’d need my help with some things and had plans to drag me with her wherever she went.

“Hey—you were going to tell me something earlier,” I say, our conversation from the car ride coming back to me.

“I was?” she answers distractedly, finally unlocking her front door after punching in her alarm code.

“Wow,” I breathe as we step inside. “Nice place.”

“It’s not much, but it’s home.”

That’s a bit of an understatement. While it’s much less pretentious than some of the houses we passed on the way in, it’s really very beautiful and spacious. I knew CJ had done well for herself before she went into politics, but I’m guessing she was just being modest when she talked about her previous life.

She leads me upstairs, chatting a mile a minute. “We actually have some time tonight. I have to remake my lists and things like that, and I’m hoping you’ll lend your hyper-organization to that for me because I’m going to be all over the place with the things I need to do and I’m going to forget stuff but you’re really good at reading between the lines and I’m hoping you’ll be able to at least sort of guess what I’m thinking and fill in some of the blanks. But I was thinking if we get a lot done this afternoon we could go out tonight. We’ll wait until Danny gets home and see if he’s feeling up to it, but I thought you might like to go to the Santa Monica Pier and see the sights. We can have a late dinner and a few drinks, ride the Ferris wheel if we’re so inclined. I don’t want you to miss out on the entire experience with all the wedding stuff and since we’re going to busy busy busy up until go time on Saturday, we both deserve a little fun before then. If Danny’s not into it, we’ll force him to be our chauffer for the evening.” She lets out a breath and flops down on what I presume to be my bed. “I’m probably babbling. I know. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m just along for the ride.”

She sighs and blinks at me a few times. “What were you asking me before?”

It takes me a few moments to catch up. “Earlier in the car, you asked me if I could keep a secret or something from Josh.”

“Oh, yes. I don’t recall getting an answer on that, either.”

“CJ.” I sit down next to her. “You can trust me. Really. Unless it’s something that’s a threat to Josh or the President, but we’ve been friends a lot longer than I’ve been with Josh.” She drops her chin and lifts her eyebrow, giving me a look of utter disbelief. “Whatever, you know what I mean. If there’s something you want to tell me, you can.”

“Well, it’s probably been built up too much by now, but...Danny and I are sort of trying to get pregnant.”

I gasp, actually covering my mouth. “Oh, my God, CJ, really? That’s…that’s…huge!”

“Well, we haven’t started really trying yet but we’ve been talking about it. We’ve been doing a _lot_ of talking and soul searching because…well…I’m not getting any younger. We don’t have a huge window where this could work, at least not the old-fashioned way, and having a child is such a huge thing anyway but to make that choice at this point in life feels even bigger. I never really thought too much about having kids before but…I can see it with Danny. Since we’re not drawing out the engagement, we thought we’d try working on it sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how aggressively we’re going to try at first. Maybe we’ll take a few more months to start; it’s all sort of up in the air at the moment but—”

I can’t help it—I launch myself at CJ and wrap her in a hug. “This is so exciting! I’m so happy for you two!”

She laughs, hugging me back. “Don’t get too excited yet. This is all still in the early stages.”

“It’s still exciting.”

“It is. It’s scary, too. I’ve heard children are a lifelong commitment.”

I chuckle, pulling back. “Usually.”

“Anyway, we’re going to give it a shot and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, eventually we’ll talk about other options. We’ve touched on those briefly and even if we do manage it, we might consider adopting a kid, too.”

I feel my eyes grow wide, but my smile is even bigger. “Really?”

She shrugs, waving her hands helplessly. “It’s all very hypothetical right now. We want to see if we can handle one first and go from there.” She glances at me, one eyebrow up, and grins evilly. “You realize, of course, if Danny and I have one, you and Josh will be obligated to give it a cousin or potential life mate.”

I choke a little. “No pressure on our genetic compatibility. Or, you know, Josh and his long-term commitment to me.”

“Sure—Josh isn’t long-term committed to you. All right.”

I shake my head. “I’m not saying that. I’m not saying anything one way or another. We’re not even talking about me and Josh; we’re talking about your uterus and its abilities.”

She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Still. I’m expecting you to provide a playmate of some sort for my future child.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” I answer, rolling my eyes. Truthfully, I haven’t thought a whole lot about having kids period, never mind with Josh. I’ve had a vague idea of having a family throughout my life, and I’m certainly not immune to kids and how adorable they can be and what they have the ability to do to my biological clock. I haven’t made it a priority, though being with Josh for almost nine months has stirred a few more things within me than at any other point in my life. But…that’s not where we are right now. We’re not talking about marriage and family or any of that other stuff yet. “Point me in the direction of wedding stuff—we’ll get started on lists.”


	2. Chapter 2

“A little distracted there, Donna?”

I jump a little at the sound of my name, shifting my attention back to CJ. “Huh?”

She lifts an eyebrow, holding up a notepad and shaking it at me exasperatedly. “We’re on a time crunch here and we lost a lot of time on the drive up today.”

My eyes roll before I can help it—she says this like I made these choices and we’re here at my whim. “CJ, there’s not a lot we can do at this time of day. We checked in with the places we could when we got here and everything is on track. We have all of tomorrow and Friday and maybe the early part of Saturday to handle things. We’ve been in a car all day, can’t we just…chill?”

“Chill?!” she exclaims, giving me an incredulous look. “You want me to _chill_? How can you even—”

“You’re going to have a stroke, honey,” Danny chimes in, never looking up from his own work.

“Well,” she says, her voice artificially cheerful. “If someone would help me with some of this—“

“Tried that. Repeatedly. You told me, and I’m cleaning this up since we’re in public, to stick my pen where the sun don’t shine and to mind my own business, which I thought was odd since I’m getting married, too.”

“Danny…”

“CJ,” he mocks.

“Okay,” I interject, “back to your corners. CJ, you told Danny to stay out of it. If you want his help, just ask for it. And Danny, please don’t antagonize her.” They both make faces and remain silent, and I hope the storm has passed. They’ve been doing this on and off since I got in on Sunday; they’ll squabble over something little, making a mountain out of a molehill, then need a few minutes to settle themselves and everything will be fine again…until the next wave hits. It worried the hell out of me until they started making jokes about it—the last minute stress of all the wedding planning is getting to them. They may be grumpy and stressed to the max, but at least they’re self-aware.

“Look, everything is in really good shape for Saturday. We’ve talked to everyone we need to talk to and so far everything is in the exact right place it needs to be. I mean, even though you haven’t done this before, the florists and caterers are all pros at this. The staff is going to set up the venue Fright night or Saturday morning so you don’t even have to worry about that part. Saturday is going to be the happiest day of your life so don’t worry so much about it.”

“Listen to Pollyanna over here,” CJ mumbles to Danny out of the corner of her mouth, her expression playful.

“That’s an excessive amount of positive thinking, even for Donna Moss,” Danny agrees, grinning broadly.

“I hate you both,” I answer, slumping back in my chair and crossing my arms.

“She even looks optimistic when she pouts,” he adds, making CJ laugh.

“If you two would stop sniping at each other I wouldn’t have to be so optimistic. I’m just trying to help with _your_ wedding, taking time out of my life to try to keep things running smoothly because _somehow_ I wound up as defacto coordinator for this thing.” Truthfully, there has been very little for me to actually do other than be around for moral support, but CJ is so panicked right now she’s creating work for herself. Other than touching base with the food people and the florist on a regular basis, she really hasn’t needed me to do a whole lot. She had everything well in hand by the time I landed. I’m not judging her panic, but she sure doesn’t want to listen to me when I tell her that everything is under control. All she can do is rework lists and shuffle around our “schedule” for the millionth time. So at this point, I’m just smiling and nodding.

The two of them blink at me in surprise a few times before CJ leans toward Danny, keeping her eyes on me. “I think we broke Donna.”

“Donna, have we mentioned how much we appreciate you being here to help with this?”

I roll my eyes, almost more irritated with myself for blowing up at them than their snipes and sarcasm. Almost.

“Maybe she just misses the Chief of Staff’s staff.”

“CJ!” I exclaim, immediately feeling my cheeks heating up. “Don’t be so crude.”

Danny looks ever-so-slightly green. “That’s an image I won’t soon get out of my head.”

“When did you two turn into a couple of bashful virgins?” CJ asks.

“Since you started talking about Josh’s…you know…Josh’s…ugh. Please don’t make me say it,” Danny answers, still looking nauseated.

“His dick,” I answer, even though everything in me is fighting against it. “I mean, if you want to talk about it, we can.”

CJ blanches, probably sure she actually did break me. “No, I don’t think –”

“I mean, you’re the one who brought up his equipment. In fact, you’re the one who keeps bringing up our private life so I’m happy to—”

“Seriously, that’s—”

“Do you have any questions? Do you want to know about length? Girth? How about—”

“Okay, okay, uncle!” CJ cries, covering her ears. “You win, all right? Geez.”

“You started it—I finished it.” I answer simply. Truthfully, I have no intention of actually discussing anything about my boyfriend and what he looks like naked—magnificent as he is—but that threat of it is enough to shut up CJ. We’ve tried to have some conversations about our significant others over the last few months because being able to talk to a friend about these things is nice, but it was only ever in generalities. While I’ve known Danny for years, it’s never been a very close relationship—why would it be? What use would I have had as an assistant to talk to a reporter? Even still, with our vague but friendly relationship, I haven’t been too keen on hearing anything too detailed about Danny. There’s definitely a difference when you’ve known the guy for some time versus meeting him when he comes into your friend’s life about the amount of detail you can handle about someone’s ability in bed. It makes complete sense that CJ, having known Josh as long as she has, would be squeamish about hearing even small details about him. Again, not that I want to offer those details, but being able to talk about a few less in depth things without someone gagging would be nice.

It’s also not the first time this trip that she’s brought up something about Josh in bed, making me squirm uncomfortably. I’m giving it a pass for now because I know she’s stressed and is probably trying to deflect some of it, but after a long day of sitting in a car with the two of them bitching at each other, I think I’ve reached the end of my patience for insinuations about me and Josh.

Headlights illuminate the front room and I can hear gravel crunching under tires outside; my head pops up and I stare at the front door eagerly, my heart dropping when what looks like an employee enters. CJ gives me a lopsided grin and I bury my face in my open laptop. “Shut up.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I could hear what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“You’re marrying the guy who makes you do that in a couple of days so—”

“Donna, I get it. It’s just cute. He should be here soon, right? He texted you that he’d landed?”

“Yeah. He didn’t know when they were going to let people off, though. It’s been more than an hour—”

“I’m sure it’s just taking some time to make sure he’s secure and all that.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes yet again. “You know, there’s a part of me—a huge part of me—that really appreciates his detail. I love that he’s secure and he has people to protect him, because he probably needs it a lot more than some with that big mouth of his, but sometimes it can be a real pain in the ass. The constant sweeps! I mean, we’ll be at home and decide to go to the grocery store, so they have to fan out around us like someone is going to be planning a strike on the off chance we’re going to wander into Trader Joe’s on Tuesday night, then they have to either sweep the store or walk directly in front of or in back of us—which isn’t at all conspicuous—and when we get back home, they have to do _another_ sweep even if one of his guards is there the entire time we’re gone. It’s insane.

“Not to mention how much of a headache it’s been to do all this!” I cringe, realizing how it came out. “Sorry, Ceej. I didn’t mean it how it sounded. I just mean the red tape on the other end just to get your house approved for Josh to stay in was ridiculous, especially considering you held the same damn position, but to get the run around with your wedding location and this hotel like we did was absolute insanity. For almost an entire day they were threatening to not let him come because we didn’t give them enough notice of the change in venue. I mean, there are people who can sweep and secure an entire office building in an hour and at a moment’s notice and we got shit because you’re getting married in San Francisco instead of Santa Monica. Excuse me—Livermore. You’d think they’d be thrilled with the smaller, quieter environment but nooo—”

“Take a breath, Donna,” Danny says, looking vaguely alarmed. “Everything’s all right now, yeah? I mean, you said yourself he landed and is on his way, right?”

I take a deep breath, feeling silly for going off like that. It’s just been a hassle to get this taken care of this week and for reasons I don’t understand. Of course, there could be some new threat I‘m not privy to—always a reassuring thought—but Josh is usually at liberty to say that much, even if he can’t give details, so it seems unlikely much has changed in that regard in the last few days. Who knows—maybe someone new is in charge somewhere up the chain and is trying to err on the side of caution. “Sorry,” I manage to say, rubbing my forehead. “I think I’m still jetlagged.”

I feel CJ slide her arm across my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. “Danny and I haven’t been helping. I know we’ve been arguing a lot the last few days and I’m sure it’s been stressing you out.” She searches my face for a few moments, lowering her voice. “Does Josh know how much it’s getting to you?”

I nod, laughing a little. “Yeah, he knows. It bothers him, too, honestly. We both knew it was going to happen but I don’t think there’s any way to really prepare for what it feels like, especially when it comes to those little things like running to a store.” I sigh a little, trying not to feel too sorry for myself—Josh and I could certainly have it worse. We live in a nice place in a nice neighborhood—all his doing, of course—and for the first time in my adult life, I’m not struggling financially. We both have jobs we love and I’m in the greatest relationship of my life. Truthfully, the security detail causes a minor inconvenience at worst most days. Still, it can be hard to not get frustrated by the whole situation from time to time.

Movement in the hotel lounge—where we’ve been camped out for the last few hours going over endless wedding details—catches my eye and I look up to see a man milling about. He looks a little too casually dressed to be a real guest, and I feel myself perk up. Anytime we’re traveling and it’s not work related, Josh’s detail tries to dress so they blend in with the atmosphere. It’s usually a spectacular mess and wildly entertaining. The man standing in the middle of the lobby is wearing clothing that’s a little too new, a little too bright, to actually blend in with his surroundings. I squint and tilt my head a little, fairly certain I can see the outline of his concealed weapon beneath the unseasonable sports coat. I don’t recognize the man—he must be someone local or someone who wanted to travel though I’m sure at least one of Josh’s regulars is around somewhere—but he’s unmistakable. CJ’s eyes follow mine and I think she registers what’s going on, too. A moment later the front door opens again and there stands Josh, hair more unkempt than usual, sticking up in a dozen different directions. He looks wonderfully rumpled but more exhausted than he should be, and my heart starts racing. Seriously racing, like I just finished sprinting across the National Mall. I’d like to blame my reaction on the fact that I haven’t seen him in days, but my heart does this when it’s only been a couple of hours. I would have thought this would have calmed down by this point but I still get ridiculously excited to see my boyfriend.

His eyes land on me and he grins from ear to ear. I may get stupidly happy to see Josh, but at least it seems the feeling is mutual.

Before I can even stand, Danny is in front of Josh, holding out his hand. “Thanks for coming, man.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he answers, and the two of them do that awkward, one-armed hug guys seem to be so fond of.

CJ jumps up and grabs Josh, pulling him into a big bear hug. “Joshua Lyman, as I live and breathe!” she exclaims, ruffling his hair as she pulls back. “You finally made it.”

He makes a face as he attempts to smooth down his hair, almost always a losing battle. “Hey, if there was any way for me to prevent a—”

She holds up a hand, cutting him off. “I understand completely. Believe me.” She pauses, smiling fondly. “I am glad to see you, though. It’s been way too long.”

“Well, what better reason for a reunion than your wedding?” Josh answers with a grin, pulling CJ in for another hug. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” she answers with a laugh. “We have a couple more days before California community property kicks in and I own half of everything he has.”

Danny actually guffaws as the other two break apart. “I have nothing—I’m virtually a kept man. I’m the one making out like a bandit with this deal.”

They step away at that moment and I finally get my turn at him, “Hey,” he says, giving me a slow, vaguely lecherous smile.

“Hey yourself,” I answer, trying to be casual as I stand and not launch myself at him. He saves me the trouble though, more or less pushing the other two out of the way to get to me. His hands slide around my waist and I reach up to cup his cheeks, running my thumbs over his dimples. “I missed you,” I tell him quietly, well aware that CJ can still hear us and will probably tease us mercilessly later.

His entire body slumps a bit and it’s only then that I realize just how tense he was. I know he probably can’t tell me what’s been going on at work the last few days but I’m happy that just being out here will ease some of his burden.

He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. I sigh contentedly, reveling in the simple nearness of him. I pull back hoping to keep our public reunion less than obscene, but Josh moves one of his hands to the back of my head, holding me to him. I hear myself squeak a little but I can only let him kiss me deeper.

“Get a room,” CJ says, though her tone is playful.

“We have one,” Josh answers a moment later, though he keeps his eyes on me. I swipe at his lips gently, cleaning off my lip gloss.

“I’m getting married in less than three days and I don’t look at my fiancée that way,” Danny says, flopping back into his armchair.

“I wasn’t going to say anything but…” CJ says, giving him a dirty look.

Josh chuckles and slides his arm across my shoulders, holding me against his side. I take a deep breath of his wonderful Josh-smell and nestle myself against him, the irrational frustrations of the last few days or so melting away. I’m sure part of my stress stemmed from the worry that Josh wouldn’t be able to make it here in time. Not that his missing CJ’s wedding would have been the end of the world. It would have been disappointing for sure but she would have understood, especially since she’s had that job. I just feel better when he’s around and the chance to spend a few days together away from work doesn’t happen a lot.

“Oh—I have a message for you from Mrs. Santos,” he says, nudging me with his hip. “She said to put down your laptop and stop working and just enjoy your friends’ wedding.”

“Donna!” CJ exclaims indignantly. “You’ve been doing real work while you’re out here?”

I feel my cheeks flush, but more from irritation at being publically called out instead of waiting until we’re in private. “I felt guilty about being out here while my staff has so much to do, plus with Josh having to work—”

“That’s why it’s called a vacation,” CJ informs me, sitting in her chair next to Danny’s. “You’re supposed to let the people you work with hold down the fort in your stead.”

“Gee, thanks, CJ,” I answer sarcastically, sliding my hand around Josh’s waist so I can pinch his side. “Thanks for ratting me out,” I mumble to him.

“Ow! Hey, she’s your boss and she’s actually a little scary. I’m not going to defy her, especially not when she’d know right away if I hadn’t told you. Let’s just relax for a few days.”

I scoff a little and plop down on the couch, Josh following right after. He has no idea how little relaxing has been involved with this trip. Truthfully, I’ve been finding it hard to relax in any of my down time. I’m so new to the whole Chief of Staff thing that I’m constantly paranoid that I’m going to screw something up. My solution has been to remain vigilant, though some might call it micromanaging. It’s not that I don’t trust the people I work with; it’s more that I don’t trust myself entirely.

“Has Donna told you how she’s been kicking ass as Chief of Staff?” Josh asks, almost eerily able to read my mind. He wraps his arm around my shoulders again.

“Josh,” I groan, my hand automatically finding its way to his thigh.

“No, but I’m not surprised,” CJ answers, smiling at me proudly. “She’s always managed to rise to any occasion thrown at her. And now we’ll stop talking about you like you’re not here.”

“Thank you. No, we haven’t had a lot of time to talk about work the last few days. It’s been a nonstop wedding bonanza.”

“I don’t know if ‘bonanza’ is the right word,” Danny says, mostly focused on a newspaper now. “It feels more like prepping for battle.”

“He’s not wrong,” CJ confirms. “This week has been insanity. I’m just going to suggest, when you two get married, just elope. So much easier.”

Josh shifts next to me and laughs uncomfortably; I just squeeze his thigh gently. It’s not the first time we’ve been questioned about getting married or offered advice about our imaginary nuptials, though why everyone is so eager to send us off into holy matrimony is beyond me. He’s pretty good about letting it roll off his shoulders, though.

“This place is really nice, CJ,” he says, going for misdirection. “We drove around the property before getting out of the car. It’s got some great views. It’ll look nice in all the wedding pictures.”

“Oh, this isn’t where we’re getting married,” CJ answers.

Josh looks around the lounge area in confusion. “But…this looks like such a wedding place.”

“It is,” Danny confirms. “But we’re not having ours here.”

“Then…”

“We’re getting married at a vineyard a few miles from here. It became available for us at the last minute—I’m sure you’re aware of that by now—and they don’t have rooms for overnight guests. We got lucky with the Purple Orchid and even then we could only get a couple of rooms. We’re lucky they had spots open this early in the week so we could come up here and get stuff taken care of. Danny’s best man isn’t coming until Friday and he’s planning to stay in a different hotel. We’d never been to this place before so we didn’t know they do weddings here, and the only reason we looked for anything in this area is because of that one vineyard. Everything else was significantly closer to Santa Monica.”

“What’s so special about this vineyard then?” Josh asks, and I let out a sigh. I’ve told him this. We had this whole conversation days ago. He even responded with more than grunts and “uh-huhs.” I should have known that most of it wouldn’t register with him. It’s lucky I personally passed that information on to his security detail and that I rebooked his flights myself, otherwise he’d have landed at LAX and been terribly confused.

“Honey, we’ll go over it again later,” I tell him.

“Hey, it doesn’t really matter to me. Just tell me when to show up and I’ll be there.” CJ and Danny stare at him doubtfully and I’m sure the look is reflected on my face. “All right, fine—Donna will make sure I’m there.”

“Sounds like something you’d do—come all this way after all this confusion and manage to miss the wedding because you took a wrong turn,” CJ says, nodding. “Say; didn’t you get stranded in the middle of—”

“Okay, let’s not do this,” Josh says. “I didn’t take time off work and fly all the way out here just so we could sit around rehash my past screw-ups.” He yawns suddenly—very aggressively, his entire body going rigid for a few moments. “Sorry. It’s been a long week. Hon, you want to show me to our room or tell me the number or something? I can go shower and wake myself up if we have a long night ahead of us.”

“Listen to you two,” CJ says, grinning broadly, “with your pet names. Aren’t you the cutest?” Before either of us can protest—even though I have to agree that we’re actually quite adorable—she continues. “Don’t worry about waking up too much. Everyone can have the night off from wedding prep, but if you’re up for it, I’d love it if we could all have dinner. They have food here or, if it won’t make your entourages’ heads explode, we can go out.”

Josh turns his head, lifting his eyebrows at me and I nod enthusiastically. “I’m good if you’re up for it. CJ’s been a slave driver since I got here so it’ll be nice to eat a meal that’s not ordered from a clown’s mouth.”

”If I wasn’t opposed to my maid of honor having a black eye, I’d hit you with your own laptop,” CJ answers with a sniff.

I just laugh and squeeze Josh’s thigh. “Come on. I’ll show you our room and we can go from there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another installment in this pointless drivel. Hopefully you’ll find it entertaining. Been so busy lately that I forgot to update (that sounds like a line but I swear it’s true). Also, I’ve refused, for the moment, to listen to the last few episodes of The West Wing Weekly because I don’t want something else in my life to end.


	3. Chapter 3

Heavy breathing fills the air. Donna’s skin glistens with sweat. Her long blonde hair, pulled back into a neat French braid, bounces with every movement.

“Come on, old guy!” she exclaims, her voice a little breathy. “You can do better than that!”

“I’m not a machine,” I grunt out, pushing a little faster. Donna just picks up her pace even more, making me groan. “Donna!”

She just chuckles, slowing down so we’re jogging side by side. “I guess you haven’t had much chance to do this the last few days.”

I give her a look even though it makes me stumble on the unfamiliar terrain for a second. “Bite me.”

She grins, her smile dazzling even in profile. “Didn’t I do that already this morning?”

I can’t help but laugh a little in response, the memory of our enthusiastic, early morning sexual acrobatics still fresh in my mind. I groan in frustration a second later when she speeds up, pulling in front of me again. It’s more than a little disgusting how quickly she picked this up. Granted, I know she ran track in high school but she hadn’t been for so much as a jog in years before she started running with me last spring. I just thought since I’d been doing it more consistently than her that I’d have a leg up. My edge only lasted about a month until she found her stride again. Unfortunately, despite my somewhat competitive nature, I can’t even be mad about it. I love spending that time with her, even if she is kicking my ass. She just makes it look so easy…it’s a little disgusting.

She pivots suddenly, turning so she’s running backward and still managing to stay ahead of me. Other than it being mildly annoying that she can manage to do that so effortlessly, too, I really like the view. As the weather got warmer, she started wearing less and less on our runs. She’ll usually wear a tank top of some kind while we’re at home but today she’s in nothing but tiny shorts and a sports bra. I don’t care how much of a dirty letch it makes me, I like what I see. Her skin, despite its natural “alabaster” tone, has managed to acquire a lovely healthy glow over the last few months—I’m sure part of that is due to our trip to visit my mom in Florida last month. She hasn’t burned at all since our first day there. Not that I’m complaining about her pale skin. I’m not going to complain about any of her skin, truthfully. But she looks completely jaw-dropping at this particular moment. I do confess to liking her sweaty, though.

She grins at me again, perfectly aware of where my attention has drifted to. I’ll be damned if watching her isn’t one hell of a motivator. “Pick up the pace, slacker.”

“When did you become the leader of this little operation?” I huff out.

“When I realized you’re a hopeless slacker and needed someone to give you guidance, so about nine and a half years ago. We’re almost done!”

How the hell can she be so enthusiastic doing this? “How do you know? Have you been here before?”

Somehow she manages to give me a world weary look while breathing heavily and running backward. “‘Cause I checked the route before I even suggested it. We only have two more hills and we’re done. Now less talking and more running!” With that she manages to turn around and pick up the pace, definitely moving out of a brisk jog and into actual running. For a brief moment I consider slowing down and catching up to her later but I know that won’t do. Aside from the fact that she would definitely win—and by a large margin—she’d hold it over my head for the rest of our lives, and I have no interest in being known as a quitter. I sigh and push myself to catch up with her; if nothing else, focusing on her ass as I run behind her keeps my mind off how much this part of our run always sucks.

The terrain is beautiful—we’ve actually been able to run through parts of the vineyard that’s behind the inn, though the rest of the landscape is just as nice. It’s a lot more rolling than I’m used to, so I’m sure that’s not helping the fact that I feel so out of shape suddenly. I’m definitely more winded than normal. I’m going to have to start using the incline more on the treadmill at home.

I glance around at my surroundings as I run, partially to keep track of where I’m going but also to try to take it all in, something I’ve been trying to do more of lately. The whole area really is nice, and the hotel we’re staying in is exquisite. I didn’t have much to do yesterday—CJ absconded with Donna yet again for most of the day—so I had a chance to check out the property and it’s totally picturesque. The fact that _I’d_ use picturesque to describe literally anything is proof that Donna has been a very strange influence on me. Still, it’s an apropos description. Everything is green and lush and despite the fact that it’s late August, the temperature isn’t oppressive. There’s a nice patio type area that overlooks the vineyard that, at least judging by the pictures on the website, make for a great wedding locale. It’s almost a pity CJ and Danny didn’t manage to book this place for the ceremony. I haven’t seen their actual venue yet—that’s later today. It could blow this pace out of the water. Still, if we lived here or this place had some significance for us, I could totally picture marrying Donna here.

I actually do stumble at that thought, nearly hitting the path in front of me face first before I’m able to regain my footing. Thoughts like that have been running rampant in my head a lot lately. I blame my mother entirely. She’s the one who gave me that damn engagement ring last month. Donna and I aren’t ready for that yet, but that doesn’t mean I can stop myself from all these thoughts I keep having. Really, I can’t imagine we’d come here of all places to get married but—

I shake my head, trying to clear that thought because—surprise!—there it is again. I’m probably going to be hard-pressed to not propose to her over the next few days and despite the fact that, again, we’re just not ready for it, I can’t imagine a tackier thing to do than propose at someone’s wedding. Plus, the ring is locked away at the bank, safe from accidental discovery…and accidental proposals, apparently.

“Josh!” Donna hollers from somewhere ahead of me. “Move that cute ass of yours!”

I chuckle, not fighting the grin that overtakes my face. She is actually quite fond of my ass, fondling it when the mood suits her or lamenting on just how adorable she finds it to be. Hers is pretty cute, too, honestly, and usually one of my key motivators when running. With that thought in mind, I force myself to pick up the pace, coming upon Donna just a few moments later. She’s bounding sideways, working different sets of muscles, at least according to her. She does that nonsense on the treadmill, too. She grins when she sees me and my heart does that funny thing I’d never want to try to describe to another guy. I’d hate to say that it flutters—because that sounds really girly—but it’s something similar to that. It happens every time I see her, even if I wake up for a few minutes in the middle of the night. All I have to do is see her sleeping next to me. It’s fairly ridiculous.

“We’re almost done,” she says, her breathing labored, and it’s the first time this entire run she seems to be struggling.

“You look so hot right now,” I grunt out, and she huffs, turning so we’re running side by side.

“I’m sweating—I get it.”

“That’s not it.”

She’s quiet for a second before she laughs a little. “You’re such a pig.”

I shrug shamelessly. “I like the bouncy thing you’ve got going on. Sue me.”

“Such a perv.”

I open my mouth to respond but I see the inn appear in the distance, peaking out over the top of the next hill. I put my head down and make myself go faster, pulling ahead of Donna. “Hey!” she calls out indignantly and I grin to myself, pumping my legs faster. Call _me_ old.

For a few long moments, all I can hear is the sound of my breathing and the pounding of my feet. Before I know it, though, another set of feet are pounding next to mine and Donna pulls up beside me. I spare her a glance out of the corner of my eye—she looks determined. The kind of determined that means trouble for me. The kind of determined that lets me know she’s going to make me work my ass off—and that I’ll possibly be in pain for the rest of the day—if I think I’m going to win this round. The kind of determined that lets me know I better not give up without a fight because she’ll know, and her disappointment would be worse than the possibility of her losing fairly to me. Not that I have need to let her win. Other than when she first started running with me and was struggling to find her stride again, we’re usually pretty evenly matched. She’s almost always the one to win. Neither one of us likes to lose but she’s much more amenable to my presence if I don’t try to handle her with kid gloves, a mistake I made only once. I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less how I win as long as I win. I don’t care if someone throws a fight because I consider that two wins in one.

Donna doesn’t see it that way. She doesn’t want any handouts and I suppose I can understand it from her point of view.

All that means is that I’m going to push myself even harder because I’m not going down with a fight.

We round a bend, the path becoming flat, and I can see the patio way ahead of us. I imagine that CJ and Danny are there, sitting at one of the tables, probably eating breakfast and _not_ torturing themselves with an early morning run. Suddenly, I’m so famished that my stomach feels like it’s about to feed on itself. I surge forward, hell bent on food.

I hear laughter and Donna sprints past me in a blonde blur. I grunt in dissatisfaction but I know there’s no way I can catch her now. I can’t even be mad—I know her. I know what she’s like. I thought I was biding my time until the last leg but she had something bigger in reserves. That just means she’s been working harder than I have so I need to stop resting on my laurels…so I can kick her ass.

I catch up to her a moment later, slowing my gait as I near the patio. Donna’s already stretching out her body, grinning at me gleefully. “Shut up, Moss,” I pant, following her lead with the stretching.

“Not bad for an old dude,” she teases, grabbing one of her feet and pulling it toward the back of her leg, stretching her quad before switching to the other.

“Whatever,” I grumble, unable to stop myself from ogling her. “Could you stop with the ‘old’ stuff?”

“Aww, baby!” she laughs, reaching out for me. “I’m sorry.” She cups my cheeks, stroking her thumbs over my lips. “You know how much I love all your _experience_.” She waggles her eyebrows at me suggestively, making me grin. “All that stamina,” she whispers, sliding her hands around my shoulders. “That can only come from advanced years.”

I pinch her side for that and she jumps, laughing loudly. She gives me a quick kiss and turns, tugging at my hand. We make our way over to our friends, CJ shaking her head at us.

“What?” Donna asks, grabbing the pitcher of water off the table and pouring herself a glass. She takes a couple of sips before handing it to me. “Don’t chug,” she commands, not bothering to look at me. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

I make a face but do as I’m told; I know she’s right but I don’t have to like it. I flop into a chair, feeling my heart finally start to go back to its usual rhythm. I pass the water back to Donna and grab her hips, steering her only my lap. She lifts her eyebrow at me but settles against my thigh, her legs going in between mine. I wrap my arms around her stomach, pressing a kiss to her sweaty shoulder blade before resting my chin on her shoulder.

“You two are like rabbits, you know that?” CJ asks, her nose wrinkled in disgust though there’s no malice in her tone.

“How so?” Donna asks, leaning against me. I feel like I should be grossed out because she’s legitimately sweaty right now but…I feel her when she’s sweaty all the time. It’s not usually unpleasant.

“You had sex last night, you had sex this morning, you just ran for who knows how many miles—”

“Whoa!” Donna exclaims at the same time I shout, “Hey!”

“I could expect such vigorous activity when Josh got in, but that was Wednesday. This is Friday.”

“How the hell do you know we were having sex?” I exclaim.

“The walls are kind of thin, Josh,” Danny says, studiously avoiding eye contact, his cheeks the faintest shade of pink as he focuses on his newspaper. “Apparently. And, you know, I guess the windows are open because, you know, nice weather or whatever.”

I can see Donna’s skin flush, red shooting down her neck and to the tops of her shoulders. “I didn’t realize we’d been so…enthusiastic.”

“Wasn’t something I ever wanted to hear, I can tell you that much.”

“Trust me, we never wanted you to hear that,” I answer, hiding my face between Donna’s shoulder blades. “We’ll keep it down tonight.”

“Good grief,” CJ grumbles. “And that’s why you two are like bunnies. If I have sex in the morning, the last thing I feel like doing is going for a run.”

“Well,” Donna says primly, thought I know it’s to cover her embarrassment. “Shows how much you know. All those endorphins give you energy. Sex in the morning makes it that much easier to get up and go for a three or four mile run.”

“Speak for yourself,” I mumble into her neck, planting a couple of kisses there. “After sex in the morning, all I want to do is go back to sleep, which is what I suggested, by the way. You’re the one who wanted get up and going before it got too hot.” According to Donna, CJ’s been making weird, inappropriate comments about our sex life since she got in on Sunday. She wanted to warn me about it so I wouldn’t be caught completely off-guard, but it’s been disconcerting anyway. Donna’s fairly certain CJ’s trying to deflect her stress from planning her wedding and has been giving her a pass on it, but I know she’s reluctant to talk to her about it. I, on the other hand, will have no problem with laying down the law if I see Donna get too uncomfortable with it all. CJ may think I’m a bumbling idiot most of the time, but when it comes to Donna and protecting her in whatever way I can, I can be terrifying.

She shivers a little, leaning away from my lips. “We had to get up anyway. Lots of wedding stuff to do.” She settles against me again and I immediately nuzzle my lips on the back of her neck. “Josh!” she yelps.

“What?” I ask, moving my lips against her skin. I can vaguely understand why CJ might compare us to rabbits. We’re a little into each other. I think a lot of it has to do with being away from the prying eyes of DC. We tend to keep a moderately professional air at home—not that we won’t hold hands or kiss in public, but it’s toned way down. A couple of days away from it all make us act like a couple of high schoolers, apparently.

“Scratchy beard!” she protests, squirming against me. I tighten my grip on her so she can’t get away, mostly to hide my sudden burst of arousal. No need to give CJ more ammo.

“It’s just stubble,” I answer. I didn’t see any point in shaving this morning before our run.

“You’re going to give me a rash,” she complains.

I nearly tell her that she didn’t mind my stubble in certain places this morning, but CJ manages to cut in, saving me from myself. “ _Don’t_ give her a rash,” she commands. “She’s wearing a strapless dress tomorrow and I’d rather not have splotchy people in pictures.”

I sigh and rest my chin on Donna’s shoulder again, doing my best not to mark her skin. “So, what’s left on the wedding planning docket?” I ask.

“Nothing for CJ,” Danny answers quickly, seemingly happy to have the conversation turned away from sex—or at least me and Donna having sex. “I’m taking over with the last minute minutia today. I’ve already talked to the staff at the vineyard and will be going over shortly to supervise and make sure things are being set up properly. I’m also going to make sure that everything that needs to be delivered is being delivered. Josh, if you wouldn’t mind coming with me to ensure that I don’t fully transform into a woman, that would be super. Ow!” He makes a face and glares at CJ, so I’m guessing he had to pay for that comment. “My lovely,” he says through gritted teeth, “fiancée is scheduled for pampering—massage, manicure, pedicure, whatever—and that invitation extends to her maid of honor, should she like to indulge.”

“She would,” Donna answers enthusiastically. “I don’t care how cliché it is, after the week I’ve had, I could use some pampering. I’m sure CJ needs it, too,” she throws in hastily before CJ can kick her as well. “What time do I need to be ready? Soon?”

CJ lifts her eyebrow at Danny. “Maestro?”

“None of that is scheduled until a little later,” he answers. “The name of today’s game is relaxation. CJ has been working really hard the last few weeks and I feel like I’ve been a total slacker with our entire wedding. The least I can do is try to help for the last leg of the journey. My son-to-be-wife needs a little TLC, I need to behave like I’m not a completely kept man…someone shut me up before the wedding’s called off on account of bloodshed.”

CJ laughs, rubbing Danny’s cheek affectionately. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, honey. You realize that none of this will stop me from stressing out about things, right?”

“Temporary reprieve is better than no reprieve,” he insists. “But, CJ, just remember that that at the end of it, we’re going to be married. That’s the important part, right? I know you want everything to go perfectly—I do, too—but I don’t want you getting too bent out of shape in case it doesn’t. We’re celebrating us and our future life together—God knows it’s been a long time coming. I want us to have fun tomorrow. We’ll do our level best to get everything taken care of today but if anything goes a little sideways tomorrow, we’ll get through it. It’ll be a fun memory for us, something for us to laugh at in a few years. Even still, I want you to take a couple of hours for yourself today. Unwind. Catch up with your friend because I’m about a hundred percent sure you and Donna haven’t done much but talk about all this stuff for days. Let me handle it, at least for a few hours. You’ll still have enough time to fix what I screw up. I’ll drag Josh with me to keep him out of trouble.” Danny trails off, his cheeks turning pink.

CJ grabs his face and pulls him in, kissing him more thoroughly than I am prepared to see. “This!” she exclaims when she comes up for air. “This right here is why I’m marrying you! What a guy I have, huh?” She beams at her fiancé and I swear his chest puffs up with pride.

“What’s good for you is good for me,” he answers, and my arms automatically tighten around Donna. I don’t know that I’d ever put it in those words exactly, but he hit the nail on the head. If Donna’s happy, I’m happy. If she’s upset in any sort of way, I do everything in my power to make her happy. I don’t know that it was always this way—actually, a lot of the time when we worked together, I could be a downright ass to her. I’d bet good money on that being me trying to repress my huge crush on my assistant.

I guess that begs the question—if Donna’s happiness is essential to me, and I have an engagement ring, why haven’t I proposed yet? I suppose it just comes down to our happiness not being tied in with marriage, but mostly because I just don’t think we’re there yet. I love her with my whole heart and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I want to spend my life with her, but…marriage doesn’t feel like the thing to do just yet. We’ll get there. This weekend is about Danny and CJ. Donna and I will have our time.

“Honey, I’m going to see if I can get some food,” Donna says, squeezing my hands. “I’m famished suddenly.”

“Shocking,” CJ mutters. I choose to ignore her.

“Food would be good,” I answer, kissing her shoulder. “Get whatever, I don’t care.” She stands up but I keep my arms loosely wrapped around her hips, pressing another kiss to her damp back.

Danny picks up his coffee but it doesn’t hide his smirk. “Little clingy, Josh?”

I shrug, giving her back another kiss. “I waited years to be with her and we’re almost never away from DC. Cut me some slack.” Donna wiggles a little, most likely in protest of my stubble, but doesn’t move away from me.

CJ stands suddenly. “Hey—I’ll come with you. I have a couple of things to check on.”

“I always forget that women travel in packs,” Danny says, chuckling for a moment before straightening up. “Hey—I thought I told you to relax for the rest of the day.”

“Report that to my bladder,” CJ answers. “Besides, you kind of sprung this whole relaxation thing on me and I have a couple of things _I_ need to wrap up before I can commence operation chill out. C’mon, kiddo,” she says, giving Donna’s arm a tug before heading off across the patio on her own.

Donna turns around and bends at the waist so we’re face to face, though I notice she angles her body away from Danny so her ass isn’t pointed directly at him. “I’ll miss you,” she says softly, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. She always feels the need to screw with me.

I roll my eyes, though I have to fight to hold back a grin. “Obviously.” Just because I know she’s screwing with me doesn’t mean I don’t like it.

“I’ll count the moments until we’re together again.”

Damn it—this time she bats her big, blue-green eyes at me. Despite my exhaustion from all the exertion this morning, I can tell that if I happened to get her alone, _things_ would happen. Things that would include me falling down at her feet, worshipping her until I was nothing but a puddle of exhausted goo. “I have no doubt,” I answer, my voice an octave lower than normal.

“Will you miss me, too?”

Christ on crutches, what is she doing to me? She already has the big eyes and pouty lip thing going but now she’s running the tips of her fingers delicately over my knuckles. Is she trying to kill me? It may not seem like much to the outside world, but this is definitely our old version of foreplay. Long before we got together, this is all we had. She used to drive me wild like this, even when she wasn’t trying.” I might think about you here and there, sure,” I answer in a considerably less debonair manner than I would have liked.

She smiles at me then—a giant, face-splitting grin that lets me know she’s won this round, too. “I love when your voice goes up like that.”

“Shut up,” I mumble, slouching down in my chair.

“And I love you,” she whispers, leaning in to give me a soft kiss, and it takes all my willpower to keep it simple.

“I love you, too,” I breathe back. She presses her forehead against mine for the briefest of moments before she straightens up, following CJ into the main building.

“Little whipped there, huh, Josh?”

I make a noise and shrug. “Haven’t I always been? I’m sure you recall me throwing snowballs at her window a few years ago.”

“That was something else, at least considering you managed to operate for years after that under the delusion that you two were only friends. You didn’t fool anyone else but…”

I make a face and grab my glass of water again, downing more of it than I ought to as I not-so-subtly stare at my girlfriend through the glass doors. I can see her at what looks like a counter—honestly, I can’t tell from here. Much as I hate to admit it, Donna’s right about me needing to get my eyes checked. At any rate, it doesn’t matter because despite my moderately failing eye sight, all I can see is her grinning and talking animatedly with someone. She really and truly is gorgeous, inside and out. If a perfect person exists, she’s it. She’s so sweet and kind…she’s like a Disney princess. Half the time I wouldn’t be surprised to wake up in the morning to little blue birds helping her get dressed while she sings a happy song. I’m so ridiculously smitten and in love with this woman it’s nauseating. When I think about how close I was to _not_ having this life, I feel myself nearly shut down. If I’m cheesy and over the top when it comes to Donna and our relationship, it’s only because I never want to take it all for granted. I hold her hand all the time because I can, and because at one point, the most I could do was touch her back or shoulder and try to keep it chaste.

“Hop on in, Josh—the water’s fine.”

I snap myself out of my reverie and shift my focus back to Danny. “Huh?”

He grins at me, looking vaguely like a jolly Santa Claus. “You’re transmitting your thoughts pretty loudly.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes thought the smile never leaves his face. “Ask that woman to marry you.”

I nearly choke but more because it feels like he’s reading my thoughts than the absurdity of that idea. “Danny—”

“You gonna tell me you haven’t thought about it?” he challenges, finally putting his paper down completely.

“Thinking about it and following through with it are two entirely different things,” I answer, refilling my water glass and taking a careful sip.

“Josh, I like to think I know you pretty well by this point, so I know you’re undeniably crazy about Donna, but if you pull your usual crap and string her along for years, I’ll probably have to kill you myself, provided CJ doesn’t do it first. It’d be kinder to just end things now.”

“How about you worry about getting married tomorrow?”

“I’m not worried about tomorrow at all. Marrying CJ is the best thing I’m going to do with my life. I can’t wait to be Mr. CJ Cregg. I know she’s worked up about a lot of the minutia and believe me when I say that I want her to be happy, but I couldn’t worry less about tomorrow so long as we’re married at the end of it. As it happens, I’ve got lots of time to worry about you and your love life. So, I’ll say it again—hop in, the water’s fine. There’s nothing like knowing you’re going to spend the rest of your life with the woman you love.”

“Hell, Danny, I _do_ already know _that_ ,” I answer, rolling my eyes.

“What does that—”

“And what would you have me do? Propose to Donna at _your_ wedding? That’s just a little tacky, and Donna would kill me if I did something like that.”

“I’m not hearing no.”

“And I’m not saying no; I’m just saying not yet. We’re not ready yet. You and CJ…you knew years ago that you had feelings for each other, right? You just didn’t act on it. Donna and I, well, we repressed all that. We lived in denial. So, right now, we’re taking time to enjoy each other and it’s amazing. It’s not like I’m _not_ going to ask her someday because I _am_. Hell, I already have a—” I clamp my mouth shut, realizing what I’m about to say.

Naturally, though, Danny latches on. I’m not surprised, really—even if he hadn’t been an investigative journalist for years, he’s a pretty smart guy and that was a pretty huge gaff. “You already have a what? Don’t tell me you already have a prenup.”

I let out a sigh and rub my temples, sparing a glance at the doors where I last saw Donna—fortunately, she’s out of sight for the moment and will have no idea that I’m being interrogated.

“All right, what I’m about to tell you goes no further than here. You can’t tell CJ—promise?”

“Scout’s honor,” he promises, holding up his hand in salute. He scoots to the edge of his chair, looking far too invested for my liking.

“I’m serious. This is just between us. Only two other people know this.”

“Josh, I swear on our damn invincible gold fish.”

I sigh—might as well. “About a month and a half ago, Donna and I went to visit my mom in Florida. Naturally, she harassed us about getting married and giving her grandchildren. Donna was a good sport about it, by the way, but probably because my mom has been saying things similar to that for years.”

“Josh!”

“Right, so, long story short, my mother gave me her mother’s engagement ring. Not in front of Donna, obviously, but…yeah. I had to get it home without her knowing about it then find a way to get it to the bank without raising any suspicions, but I don’t think she knows about it. Sam does because, you know, I kinda had to tell someone, and my mom knows, of course, and now you know. And Danny, I swear to God—”

He mimes locking his lips but he possibly looks more excited about the whole thing than Sam did and Sam nearly cried. Of course, Sam was with me when I put the ring into my box at the bank so he got to see the thing. It definitely made him emotional.

“So, you have a ring but…no plans to propose?”

“I only have a ring because my mother is meddlesome old woman and she might love Donna more than she loves her only son.”

Danny nods and I can see his mind working, trying to figure out what to say next and how to phrase it. “Well…is it a good ring?”

I can’t help it—I feel myself grin from ear to ear. “It’s perfect. It’s completely Donna. My mom told me I didn’t have to use it to propose and I should shop around a little just in case, and I probably will when the time comes, but I think she’ll like it. So, no—no concrete plans to propose.” I glance back toward the hotel and find no sign of Donna. “This conversation never happened, though, got it? I don’t want to get a call from CJ at some point asking to see the ring because you couldn’t keep your trap shut.”

“Josh, I told you I’d keep it to myself. I was a journalist for years—I know how to keep things quiet when I need to.”

“You know as well as I do how different it all is with these women in our lives—all that professionalism goes flying out the window when it comes to making them happy. I know that if CJ had so much as a hint that you know something she doesn’t, you’d fold like a cheap suit. I can imagine it’s only going to get worse after tomorrow. It’s business as usual until it comes to the love of your life, then all bets are off.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “But the proposal thing is a whole different story. There may not be many things I’ll keep from my future wife, but something like that I would. In fairness, I may not remember any of this conversation by later today. Even though I’m not stressed about the wedding, I have a million things on my plate and this information isn’t entirely pertinent to everything going on right now.”

“Yeah, well, either way, let’s shut up about it now because…” I nod toward the door, where they’ve suddenly appeared on the other side of the glass.

Danny glances over his shoulder, smiling as he sees his fiancée. “Hey,” he says to me, his voice low, “I’m sorry about the way CJ’s been acting.”

“Danny—”

“Look, I know she’s an adult and can fight her own battles and she should apologize herself—and she will, I’m sure of it—but I want you to know that I’m aware of it. I know she’s being weird and making you and Donna uncomfortable. I don’t know if it helps at all, but she’s been doing that to a _lot_ of people the last few weeks. I mean, maybe not with the sex stuff, but just being oddly abrasive. She won’t even realize it until long after the fact, either, and then she feels terrible…I’ll talk to her again, all right? See if I can get her to calm down with it. I’m hoping that it’ll all even out after the wedding. And thanks to the both of you for putting up with it. I know—”

“It’s okay, Danny. I mean, well, it’s not _okay_ okay, but don’t worry about it. Thank you for being aware of it, though. I’ll mention it to Donna so she knows that you’re aware of the situation. And you’re probably right—things will be fine after the wedding tomorrow. I’ve never planned one of those so I don’t know how it could affect someone.”

“Thanks for understanding—”

Whatever else he’s going to say gets cut off and forgotten as Donna and CJ emerge onto the patio. Their laughter hits my ears and I grin as I watch Donna walk toward me. It’s my Pavlovian response when I see her. She and CJ are still in conversation, which is fine by me because it means that I get to stare at her without her feeling self-conscious. She’s still glowing from head to toe and while I’d like to attribute that to my stallion-like abilities in bed this morning, I’m sure it’s because we just finished running. I have no doubt that any guy she happened to bump into ogled her mercilessly in her skimpy running get-up—she does look amazing—and it raises my hackles inadvertently because, let’s face it, I’ve never been a fan of other people paying attention to her like that, but I’m the only one who earns that smile from her. Yes, I get all the benefits of being in a relationship with her, and there are a lot of benefits, both physical and otherwise, but there’s something about being the target of that particular smile of hers. It’s a smile that she used to get from time to time when talking about some loser she was dating for the moment—namely Jack and Colin—and it would kill me every time. Now, it’s for me. It’s possibly my imagination, but there’s something different about it now, too. It’s less like a school girl crush and more like a grown woman who is happy with where she is in her life and who she lets share it. At any rate, I get to bask in that look every day now and it makes me feel like I can move mountains. Nothing in my life—no political gain, no presidential win—compares to receiving the love of this woman.

She looks up from her conversation and grins at me, and I swear I become goo. God help me if we ever have a little girl because I will be lost. My heart thumps erratically and it has nothing to do with the brief thought of children and everything to do with Donna merely acknowledging my presence.

She picks up her pace and trots over to me; I stand reflexively, my arms automatically looping around her waist. She grins even wider, her arms wrapping around my neck.

“You two _just_ saw each other,” CJ says disbelievingly.

“I forgot how cute he is,” Donna answers, pressing her lips to mine. I tighten my hold on her, pushing my palm gently into the small of her back to bring her closer. She arches a little, pushing herself into me in response.

It occurs to me briefly that _this_ is what it must’ve been like to date in high school or college. Well, not to just date, because I did do some of that, but to be in a relationship at that age. To have everything heightened and intensified, for it to all be over the top and to be crazy in love and oblivious to the world and not care one bit who knows it. It’s pretty wild.

“Maybe you should have had our breakfast sent to our room,” I breathe as we part, my libido quickly responding to everything about her right now.

“Way ahead of you,” she answers, kissing the tip of my nose before straightening up. She turns so she’s facing our friends but holds onto my arms, keeping them around her middle. “When does our day of relaxation start? I really need to shower before any of that can happen.”

“And have more sex apparently,” CJ says, looking vaguely disgusted and, if I’m not mistaken, just a little impressed.

“Always a possibility,” I answer, giving Donna a little squeeze.

“Either way, I need to clean up before I get a massage. I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate me being all sweaty.”

Danny glances at his watch. “Nothing is scheduled until eleven so you’ve got some time.”

“Good,” she answers. “We’re gonna go eat and get cleaned up and CJ, I’ll meet you…”

“In the lobby,” CJ answers decisively then confers with Danny, who nods. “The lobby at…”

“Quarter ‘til,” he answers with a chuckle. “It’s all on the premises so you don’t have to go anywhere. Oh, and we’re having dinner at the vineyard at eight. The rehearsal is at six, so we’ll leave here around five, do a final tour of the wedding site.”

“Got it,” I answer, edging Donna away slowly.

“You’re not off the hook, Lyman,” he says. “After the two of you are done…whatevering, I really am going to drag you around with me.”

“C’mon! You were serious about that? Isn’t your best man due any time now?”

“Yeah, but I actually like him.”

CJ snickers and I roll my eyes. “Fine, but you have to clear it all with my detail.”

He makes a face and goes back to his paper. “I might be able to survive without you today.”

Donna disentangles herself, giving my hand a tug. “Let’s go eat.”

“Yes ma’am,” I answer, waggling my eyebrows at her.

She grins and gets a glint in her eyes, and it can only mean trouble for me. “Last one there is a rotten egg!” she exclaims, turning around and sprinting away.

“Damn it! Hey!” I take off after her, the sound of her laughter floating back to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That opening image stuck with me for the longest time. I’m not entirely sure why, either, but it was something that popped into my head, probably years ago, and I had to figure out a way to work it in. Did you know that Concannon Vineyard is a real place? I stumbled upon it while trying to do research for this story and it seemed too perfect not to use it.


	4. Chapter 4

I never thought I’d be one to say this, but the ceremony was beautiful. I don’t usually get too into the whole wedding thing, but something about seeing some of my closest friends vow to be together forever got me choked up.

The whole atmosphere really is spectacular. It looked nice last night when we came for the rehearsal and dinner, but the view in day light added to the whole thing. There’s a big, odd-looking house in the middle of it all and I’d figured the whole thing would take place there but the ceremony itself was outside. I guess that’s where the previous event was to be held and it’s what they got since they picked up someone’s cancellation though you’d never know that by looking at it because the whole thing is so well put together. It made for nice pictures, too, and wandering the grounds before the ceremony was the first time I’d seen Donna in hours. Despite the wedding being early in the afternoon, she was ushered away far too early in the morning for hair and makeup and mimosas, and endless amounts of pictures. I wasn’t around for the “getting ready” stuff but I came over to the vineyard with Danny—my detail preferred I get there early so they could do their thing first without a lot of people around—and I got to watch Donna and CJ pose outside in various locations, in front of various backdrops and foliage and buildings. Any time CJ was off for her individual shots I got to at least talk to my girlfriend but she wouldn’t let me get too close because she didn’t trust me enough to not ruin her makeup or hair. In fairness, I wouldn’t trust me, either. She looks _hot_ in her bridesmaid’s dress.

The whole picture thing seemed to take forever; there apparently had been some debate prior to today between Danny and CJ over whether or not to take pictures together before the ceremony. CJ was fine with it and Danny wanted the moment he saw her in her wedding dress walking down the aisle to him to be special. The photographer had assured him that it would be special no matter what—it seems it always is—and my lovely Donnatella came up with the solution of having CJ reveal herself dressed up to Danny for the photographer so the moment could be captured and so they could take time together before the ceremony. That’s what they went with and it was actually pretty cool to see. Danny with his back turned, CJ walking up behind him, Danny immediately breaking down into tears when he saw her. I’ve never seen the man cry before today. He looked positively stunned when he saw her. Donna did her best to hold back her own tears as we watched the scene, dabbing carefully around her makeup and leaning her head on my shoulder.

When the time came for CJ to walk down the aisle, Danny couldn’t help but get a little emotional then, too. I didn’t notice too much because I’d just watched Donna walk down the aisle—it did things to me. She doesn’t look remotely bridal but that smile on her face and the whole atmosphere gave me a _lot_ of thoughts about our future. It gave me insight into how emotional I’m probably going to get when our day comes. I guess I’d never given much thought to specifics about weddings. If I know anything, it’s from movies and TV shows. I never gave consideration to seeing Donna before the whole walk down the aisle—I just kind of assumed I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t see her in her dress, I wouldn’t know anything about the dress, I’d just be wowed when I saw her. I never realized there would be options. Ultimately, though, I doubt anything but tradition would fly with my mother. I don’t know Donna’s parents very well yet but I don’t think they’d deal well with anything but that particular tradition. Honestly, I think I prefer it that way. I’m okay with not seeing her until that moment.

I give my head a shake, pulling myself out of those thoughts, and take a small sip of my wine. I promised Donna I’d take it easy with the drinking tonight and not go wild because we’re at a wedding. It’s not an unfair promise because it doesn’t usually take much for me to get tipsy and I don’t want Donna or anyone else to have to deal with my drunk ass all night long.

I glance around the reception area, which is actually indoors in one of the barrel rooms or something, but it looks nice. Lots of little lights, tables scattered about, a dance floor in the middle of it all, an open bar off to the side. It’s not huge, but the guest list was actually pretty small so it works. Sam was able to fly out for the wedding, though he has to get back on a plane later tonight, Charlie managed to get here with, not surprisingly, Zoey Bartlet. Toby seemed to magically appear at the back of the crowd during the ceremony and has kept mostly to himself. Kate Harper showed up, dragging Will Bailey with her. Carol was able to get out here, too, though without Margaret, who’d been planning to fly out with her. The former President Bartlet and Dr. Bartlet made it out as well, and we were all gathered together outside for a bunch of group shots—that many of the old group hadn’t been together for such a long time and it kind of felt like a family reunion. Since then, though, Donna’s been with CJ and Danny and Danny’s best man—who’s name I don’t remember—taking endless amounts of pictures while we all cool our heels inside. Fortunately, there’s been plenty of food to keep the masses appeased, and I think Danny and CJ have had their meal away from people so they can focus on being social butterflies or something.

I finish the last of my wine and put the glass on the bar, waving off the offer of a refill. It’s bound to be time for the reception to really start—they’ve been gone for more than hour.

I sigh and look around again—I could go be social but I’ve already made the rounds. A large group of guests, and a couple of employees, is flocking around the former President, all looking a bit star struck. The security detail is considerably less than thrilled. Sam and Toby, who haven’t seen each other in years, are engaged in a deep conversation. Really, all I want to do is see my girlfriend; I don’t care how pathetic it seems. I don’t want to monopolize all of her time; I just want to be near her while she socializes with everyone. She doesn’t even have to pay attention to me. I sit down at one of high-backed bar chairs, vaguely hoping I don’t look too bored with my surroundings.

A very brief commotion breaks me out of my thoughts and I see the doors open—Donna and Danny’s best man walk in arm-in-arm and I feel a stupid little twinge. It’s not really jealousy per se because I know she loves me but some of those old habits have died harder than others. I always sabotaged her private life and I was actually insane with jealousy most of the time, so it’s been a process to get over that completely. However, this twinge comes from the fact that this guy Danny knows has to be at least my age if not older—but looks like he’s found the spring of eternal youth. He’s blond and tan and built and looks good with Donna. Better than I look with her. It makes me wonder for the millionth time what she’s doing with an old guy like me. It’s ridiculous to be insecure about this because our age difference never fazes her; most of the time, it doesn’t bother me, either. It’s just when I see her with a guy who looks…well, like _that_. Maybe it’s because it reminds me of the time I wasted not being with her and how comparatively young I was then. Of course, she was practically a baby at that point.

The music starts up—an old standard, The Way You Look Tonight—and the newly married couple hits the floor. Donna’s face lights up as they sway together and thoughts of age gaps and guys with movie star good looks disappear. All I can see is her smile. I spare a glance or two at CJ and Danny but they don’t interest me the same way. I vaguely notice that Donna’s let go of super stud’s arm, which I don’t hate.

I glance around at the rest of the guests; just about everyone is smiling at the dancing couple, a lot of them dabbing at their eyes. This feels like it should be supremely awkward—despite it being another basic wedding tradition—but it’s just a joyful moment. Everyone looks happy, CJ and Danny are lost in their own little world…it’s actually quite lovely.

Donna smiles at something the best man says, but I can see her looking around every few seconds, hopefully searching for me. I’d like to flap my arms around so she can’t miss me, but I’m fairly certain CJ would kill me. Instead, I settle for keeping my eyes on her, hoping she’ll be able to hone in on me. She does, eventually, her smile softening as we make eye contact. She looks over at CJ and Danny again, says something to the best man, and shifts to the back of the crowd. I can see her blonde hair as she moves slowly, trying not to draw attention. The song starts to wind down but before anyone can clap the music changes and picks up, synthesized sounding drums making my head jerk back to the dance floor. Danny grabs CJ’s hand and moves her about in an elaborate set of spins and pulls that I guess she was expecting because she moves with it gracefully. The crowd bursts into applause and laughter, everyone immediately bobbing their heads along. I feel like I might actually know this one, or at least have heard it at some point in my life. Everyone else seems to know it—their lips start moving with the lyrics—and I understand again why Donna gives me an exasperated look when something about pop culture flies over my head.

This whole thing looks like they’re telling a story through interpretive dance, at least if I’m hearing the lyrics correctly.

I feel hands on shoulders then, the gentle pressure unmistakable. I move to stand up so she can take my seat but she just pushes on me a little, letting me know to stay put. One of her hands rubs the nape of my neck for a few moments before settling onto my shoulder again.

She squeezes me a few times as I watch CJ and Danny lay it on thick, entertaining the whole crowd with their antics. The chorus of the song rings some bells for me, which I feel proud about.

“…But something happened on the way to heaven.”

“Hey! I think I _do_ know this song!” I exclaim.

“Josh,” she whispers, amusement evident in her voice. Her arms slide around my shoulders and she rests her cheek next to mine. “You can run and you can hide,” she sings along softly, absently, her body swaying to the music and makes me move, too. She really doesn’t have much of a singing voice but something about it gives me tingles anyway. “But I’m not leaving ‘less you come with me. We’ve had our problems but I’m on your side…” I reach up, grabbing onto one of her hands gently. She squeezes mine in return. There’s a lot to be said for this almost-too-tall bar chair; I’m almost Donna’s height while sitting down and it makes it easy for her be close to me this way.

I’m really not sure what happening on the dance floor but CJ and Danny seem to have a plan, and as goofy as it is, it looks somewhat coordinated. “Did they practice this?” I ask, trying to keep quiet enough to not draw any dirty looks.

“Yeah,” she answers distractedly. “But I didn’t find out about it until yesterday.”

I shrug, letting it go. I think she’s into the story unfolding in front of us. The song slows down a little, CJ and Danny swaying in time. They have grins plastered on their faces and are very obviously singing—or lip syncing—along with the music. “But taking what I got or being here with you, you know I’d rather leave it.” I have to admit, the lyrics are oddly apropos for the two of them, which I guess is why they went with it. It kind of fits for me and Donna, too.

The music picks up again, repeating the beginning of the song, but this time CJ leads Danny in the same elaborate set of twists and turns as he did earlier, whipping him nearly backward as she dips him. The crowd goes crazy, laughing and cheering at their antics, and I can’t help but laugh along with them. Talk about finding your other half.

Donna laughs, too, unwinding her arms from around me to applaud and cheer with everyone else. She puts her hands on my shoulders again, and I can tell by the pressure that she’s jumping up and down, childlike in her glee. Just another one of the things I love so much about her—her complete joy in other people’s happiness. Her friends are having one of the happiest days of their lives and Donna has nothing but unreserved elation for them.

CJ and Danny regroup and start swaying to the music again, most of their antics seemingly over for now. Donna sways back and forth, too—I can tell because she manages to move me at the same time. I reach up and grab her hands, gently pulling her arms around me again. It’s amazing how bereft I feel without them suddenly, as if I didn’t go most of my adult life without Donna holding me, as if I don’t still spend most of my waking hours without her arms around me. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss them when they’re not there.

What a sap I’ve become. My girlfriend is standing behind me and literally has her hands on me and I miss being wrapped up in her.

She doesn’t protest, though. Her arms tighten around me, her cheek pressing against mine again, her soft smell enveloping me. “But you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til you lose it,” she sings quietly, though this time feels more deliberate. Hell, I don’t care as long as she’s near me. “That was then and this is now…” Yeah, I’ll gladly listen to her off-key singing for the rest of my life—it’s not like I’m bringing home Grammys or something.

I sigh contentedly, watching the newlyweds dance, throwing in a few fancy moves here and there even as the song fades out. Everyone starts cheering again, applauding the couple for their enthusiastic entrance into matrimony. I clap along with everyone but it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Donna that I don’t want something like this when we get married. It’s fun and all, but it seems that I’m somewhat old-fashioned in a few things despite my best intentions—and having a romantic first dance that doesn’t segue into something silly like this feels like it’s important. Somehow, I manage to remain silent, only giving Donna’s hands another squeeze. She turns her face, pressing her lips close to my ear. She doesn’t say anything, but I get the feeling she knows what I’m thinking.

Danny grins and gives CJ a quick, chaste kiss before they bow dramatically, and I shake away personal wedding thoughts. Danny’s mother—she’s built like him and walked with Danny down the aisle, beaming proudly the entire time—makes her way onto the floor and Danny immediately scoops her up. President Bartlet appears at CJ’s side to fill in for the father-daughter dance. CJ’s own father passed away early in the year but probably wouldn’t have been able to make it even if he hadn’t. As I understand it, he was in fairly poor shape for a while and probably couldn’t have handled the stress of traveling. President Bartlet was all too happy to fill those shoes, though, and beams at CJ proudly, smiling just as hard as he would for his biological daughters.

The two couples dance side by side and I tug Donna’s arm. She takes the hint and moves around in front of me, standing between my legs. “You sure you don’t want the chair?” I ask quietly, draping my arms around her waist.

She shakes her head, pressing herself close to my chest. “I’m okay.” Even so, I push myself further back in my chair and widen my legs, giving her as much room as I can. She lifts herself up until she’s half-sitting in front of me. I rest my chin on her shoulder, taking a deep breath. Yeah…she intoxicates me. Over our months together, I’ve discovered that she doesn’t use much in the way of perfume; it’s mostly just shampoo and lotions and whatever it is that makes her smell like _her_. Sam would probably say it’s pheromones. Who knows? He could be right. All I know is that whatever it is nearly does me in.

“You look beautiful. Have I told you that?” I whisper.

She ducks her head for a moment, my breath tickling her ear. “Not in the last hour or so.”

I hold her just a little tighter. “Well, you look incredible.” She does, too—better looking than the bride, though I am biased. From what I understand, she and CJ picked out the bridesmaid dress together, aiming for something Donna might be able to wear again. It’s strapless—which I’m into—and pink. No—not pink. I made the mistake of saying that when she first brought it home and was informed that it’s actually rose. Dusky rose or dusty rose or desert rose. Something like that. Actually, calling it pink was my first mistake. My second was later that night when I told her the dress is the same color as her nipples. She whacked my arm pretty good for that one even though I genuinely meant it as a compliment. She told me if I started calling it the nipple dress she was going to leave me. Even though it never would have occurred to me to call it that before, I’ve had to really make an effort not to call it that since.

“You look good, too,” she says suddenly. “I don’t think I’ve told you that.” She turns her face a little and I lean in immediately, giving her a gentle kiss. “The button down shirt with a suit jacket and no tie…it’s good.”

I chuckle a little, giving her another kiss before we go back to watching the dancing, my chin on her shoulder again. Same way seeing her in something like this dress can make me feel completely captivated, it seems that sometimes the way I wear something turns her on, too. It’s funny how wearing clothing can get us just as hot and bothered as wearing nothing at all. Really, it’s just proof that Donna’s hot no matter what.

With a sigh, I give her a little squeeze, smiling when her fingers lace through mine. “Sorry I’ve been so clingy lately.”

She starts just a little, her head angling slightly toward mine. “What?”

“The last few days, while we’ve been out here. I know I’ve been very clingy and it’s probably getting annoying—”

“Josh, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m being possessive or something; it’s just nice to be out like this, away from all the prying eyes of DC and just feel like a couple.” We really don’t get to do this a lot—a trip to Florida last month and one to Wisconsin back in April, but we’re mostly stuck in the comparative spotlight in DC where our every move can be, and often is, scrutinized. Our picture is taken frequently and it’s not unheard of for reporters to pop up out of nowhere and ask us questions. It’s a little like what I imagine it is to be some movie star and I don’t care for it. So, when we’re somewhere like this, it can be tough to not want to just touch her all the time. We keep it so reigned in publically at home that it feels like it needs to explode out of me when we’re not there. I just worry she’s going to think it’s me wanting to keep tabs on her and not the fact that I just want to be near her as often and as much as she’ll let me.

“Honey, you’re not being clingy; more affectionate than at other moments but it doesn’t bother me. Not at all. I like when you’re in the mood to be affectionate.”

“In the mood…Donna…” I pull away from her a little, angling my body so I can see her face. “Donna, I am _always_ in the mood to be affectionate. I just don’t want it to be a _thing_ when we’re at home, you know? I figured we didn’t want our business splashed all over the place.”

“Well, ideally, no, I don’t want everyone in our business but honestly…I just don’t care. People are going to talk—they always have and they still are. If they’re going to talk, I’d rather it was about how silly and affectionate we are instead of wondering if we’re on the skids because we’re not holding hands. I waited a really long time to be with you and that’s all I want…to be with you. In whatever way we can. If that means we spend most of our ‘couple’ time behind closed doors, then I’ll take it because at least we have those doors now. I figured all the not-very-coupley public stuff was because you wanted privacy and that’s fine with me. Like I said; whatever as long as we’re together.

I feel my jaw go slack. “I just haven’t wanted it to come back on you somehow. You know DC is full of sexist old windbags who’ll waste no time slandering you while simultaneously exalting me—”

“Don’t care. I mean, maybe I will one day but being with you still feels novel. I just want to enjoy being with you in whatever way I can. If that means we’re that obnoxious couple when we’re out of the area, so be it.”

I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, this kiss being a little less chaste than just a few minutes ago. “Maybe we need to work on our communication skills a little more.”

She giggles—honest-to-God giggles—and says, “It’s going to be a lifelong effort, babe, I can promise you that much.”

Babe. I like that. I don’t think she’s called me that before. I never thought I’d be a pet name kind of guy but Donna has a way of making all the rules change. “I love you,” I whisper. “And I want us to be more like this at home, too. Whatever degree of public affection you’re good with, I want to do. It’s not like we’re a secret or anything—we’re just low-key. I waited a long time for you, too, and I’d kind of like to be as public with it as possible.”

She grins at me broadly and gives me another lingering kiss. “Come on Casanova,” she says, sliding off the chair. Before I can protest she grabs my hand and gives it a tug. “The dance floor is open for business.” I hesitate for a few moments as I glance at the dance space. It does look like everyone is welcome to join in but dancing isn’t my favorite thing and— “Dance with me, Josh,” she requests softly, and how can I resist? I let her lead me out to the sparse crowd of people, wrapping her up in my arms so we can sway to the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weird, right? I had that idea of CJ and Danny dancing to “Something Happened On The Way To Heaven” for probably close to two years before I finally wrote it down. It doesn’t translate as well as I wanted it to, but maybe it’s entertaining.
> 
> The next installment of this is smutty. However, it’s written as an entirely separate story, so those that don’t want to read that content won’t have to skip the rest of this story. It’s supplemental but not essential, so the last chapter of this saga won’t really be effected by it. Considerate, no? 
> 
> I’m in the process of writing something that’s a touch more…graphic? Explicit? Than I usually write. It’s a slow process but it’ll be available for consumption at some point in this calendar year. I don’t know, you’ll see what I mean.
> 
> Sorry it took me so long to post this, but I guess my mental health hasn’t been the best lately and I’ve felt kind of insecure, or like nobody cares if I’m writing. I could be right, or I could be letting my inner demons whisper in my ear too much. This is not a ploy to get more reviews/likes/kudos (because logically, I receive those and you guys are more than cool in doing your thing) but if anyone has any kind words to share—even about life in general, like if you saw an awesome random act of kindness—please feel free to PM me.


	5. Chapter 5

I sigh, utter contentment washing over me. Donna sighs in response, her body expanding and contracting in my arms. I lift up one hand to push her hair out of the way, leaning in to kiss her neck. She tilts her head to give me better access but I try to keep it easy, mindful of her publically exposed skin.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she says softly.

“Mmm,” I agree, not looking up from her neck.

“Josh,” she chides gently, shrugging her shoulders until she dislodges me. “Look at the sky.”

Only slightly disgruntled I lift my head and look around; I can’t help but be impressed. The sun has disappeared beyond the horizon, and the bottom of the sky is absolutely covered with deep pinks and purples and splashes of orange and red. It truly is gorgeous. The company I’m keeping doesn’t hurt, either. The bright colors wash over her face, making her glow. She’s ethereal. “Wow.”

“Sunset’s _that_ way, Josh,” she says, pointing out to the distance.

“Whatever,” I answer, leaning in to nibble at the shell of her ear. She sighs in mock frustration, not stopping my ministrations.

We made our way out of the wine cellar and onto one of the fenced in porches probably half an hour ago to get some air and some space. The reception has been a blast, full of old friends, fantastic wine, conversation, laughter, and more dancing than I ever expected to participate in. Donna and I have in no way been joined at the hip all night. She’s spent a fair amount of time being whirled about on the dance floor and chatting with people she hasn’t seen much of in the last couple of years. As much as I’d prefer to have been by her side the whole time, needy as I’ve been, I was able to mingle and have fun on my own, too. For sure we made time for each other as well, with dancing and picture-taking and even a brief side-journey that could probably have ruined both our careers if someone caught us.

Now, though, it’s getting late, especially considering we’ve been partying for close to five hours and most of the crowd doesn’t seem like they’re slowing down. President and Dr. Bartlet left an hour or so ago, the man looking fatigued but happy. A few others have dropped off over the course of the evening but everyone else is still going strong. Toby’s even managed to enjoy himself, coming out of the woodwork eventually after much coaxing and a few glasses of wine. Still, the need to escape and enjoy some quiet was strong. It’s doubtful anyone’s even noticed we’re gone.

“It’s beautiful here,” she says softly. I finally lift my head from her neck, resting my chin on her shoulder.

“The vineyard or Livermore?

“Both, but specifically the vineyard. Well, our hotel, too. All of northern California seems so picturesque. I almost don’t want to go home.”

“We should come here when we retire. Some place like this. Peaceful and low key, where we can get away from it all.” She turns her head and I look back at her, watching her eyebrow lift skeptically. “What?”

“I just can’t imagine you ever retiring.”

I chuckle, giving her a quick kiss. “You’d be surprised.”

“I would be,” she agrees. “I can’t picture you living anywhere that far away from the hustle and bustle of DC, unless it was someplace like New York City. Somewhere you could constantly be in the thick of things.”

“That’s not how I want to spend my golden years,” I answer definitively. “I’m not ready to give up the ghost quite yet but this career path definitely has a shelf life. I’ll have to work in the private sector for a while of course, and make enough money to keep you in the lifestyle to which you’d like to become accustomed.” She elbows me in the ribs for that one. “Seriously, though, somewhere down the line, ending up in a place like this wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

“Mmm, not too bad,” she agrees, “though I think I might prefer something closer to the ocean.”

“I can live with that.” I kiss her again. “Retire in Hawaii?”

She grins broadly. “I think you’d have to work in the private sector for a long time to be able to support me there.”

“Worth it,” I answer, knowing without a doubt that I’d do whatever it takes to make that happen for us if that’s what she wants from life. As long as she’s willing to keep me along for the ride, I’m happy to do whatever she wants.

“I love you,” she whispers, turning in my arms.

“Love you,” I answer, tightening my hold on her. I lean in and kiss her, feeling her respond enthusiastically. We keep it slow, though; slow but thorough. I press her against the railing, one hand cupping her face, the other roaming over her back. Her arms are tight around my shoulders, holding me close. I feel like I could live in this moment forever.

“You two really are sickening, you know that?” A quiet voice asks suddenly, pulling us out of our bubble. We jump apart and I make a face when I see it’s only Toby. He waves his wine glass in our general direction, leaning against the wall next to the door. “Force of habit?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, not at all liking the implication of that.

“Josh,” Donna says quietly, tightening her grip on my arm before I can go at him.

“Your absence is starting to become conspicuous,” Toby says, taking a casual sip of his wine, as if he didn’t just imply that Donna and I had reasons to jump apart in the past.

“Toby, I—”

“I know that nothing untoward happened back then; you would have been significantly more relaxed if it had.”

Donna makes a noise and gives my arm a squeeze. “And that’s all of this conversation I want to have. I’ll see you inside.” She pauses as she gets to Toby. They look at each other for a moment until his cheek quirks and she swings her elbow at his arm teasingly. Toby almost laughs and Donna disappears back into the building.

I cross my arms and lean against the railing; I can feel myself actually glowering at him. “That was way out of line.”

“I know,” he answers, taking a casual sip of his wine. “My therapist would say I’m working through some issues and maybe I’m misdirecting some of my anger.”

“Your therapist?”

His cheek quirks again. “My therapist. If I, you know, was seeing one.”

I roll my eyes, fighting back a chuckle. “You’re a real riot. _Pardon_ me if I don’t laugh.”

That gets to him—his eyes widen before they crinkle, an actual laugh erupting out of him before he gets himself under control. “Touché.”

I grin in response, moving toward him. “C’mon; let’s go—”

“Are you happy?” he asks, his voice so quiet it startles me and I have to make sure I heard him right.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you happy?”

“What are you—my mother? Of course I’m happy—”

“Then marry the girl.”

“Jesus, Toby.”

“Marry her now.”

“Okay, I think—”

“This is something I know a little bit about, and if you’re happy and you love her, you can never let her go.”

My heart really does go out to him. I know the hell he went through with Andy, the rejected house and rejected proposals, not being around his kids all the time. “I am _never_ letting her go.”

“Josh, you can’t—”

“I _know_.” I nod my head, making deliberate eye contact. “Believe me, I know. She’s going to have to dump my ass and run away and disappear into the woodwork and even then, I don’t know that it would be enough.”

“I just don’t want you to—”

“I know.”

He’s silent for a few moments, studying my face. I guess he approves of what he sees because he eventually relaxes a bit and nods. “Okay.”

I nod my head in return then gesture inside. “Rumor has it there’s some sort of party going on in there. What do you say we go pretend to be social?”

“Sounds terrible,” he answers, moving to sit on one of the benches. “I’ll be back in a little while. I just needed some air.”

“Okay,” I answer, feeling reluctant to leave him. “Everything all right?”

He pauses, swirling his wine glass for a few long moments before taking a sip. “It is.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tease him, harass him in some way but today is the first time I’ve really seen him in months and he seems to be somewhat at peace. Maybe I’ll get him riled up next time we see each other. Maybe, for now, being here and celebrating our friends is enough. “Well, I’m going to get in there and dance with my incredibly hot girlfriend.”

“Just think—if you actually married her, you could refer to her as your wife like a real man.”

“Whatever—at least I’m getting laid on a regular basis.”

Toby snorts, nearly choking on his wine. “Be that as it may, imagine all the regular lays you could have gotten if you’d sacked up and told the woman how you feel about her four or five years ago.”

“Yeah, well…we’re just not gonna talk about that.” No need to mention that we’ve done our level best to make up for lost time. We know it’s impossible but we sure as hell have been trying. “I’m still gonna go dance with her. You know…because I can.”

“Mazel tov,” he answers. I linger there, watching him to make sure he’s…I don’t know. Really okay, I guess. He looks up at me, sighing impatiently. “Go.”

Still, I can’t help but grin. “It’s good to see you, Toby.”

“I know.”

I sigh and shake my head, making my way back inside and toward the wine cellar. Even though I just saw her, my heart speeds up knowing that I’ll be seeing Donna again shortly. I’m always aware that I’ve got it bad for her—that I’ve had it bad for her for some time—but it’s moments like this that really drive home just how far gone I am over her. It shouldn’t be a huge shock to anyone that’s known me and my varied relationships with Donna over the years, but most people who know me, while not surprised that I’m finally with Donna, often seem surprised at just how open I am about it. They’re surprised that I’ll drop what I’m doing to kiss her hello or leave work at a normal-ish time to be with her or take off the whole weekend just because. If people knew that my heart actually flutters at the idea of being around her, I’d lose a lot of credibility if people in DC knew any part of me actually fluttered.

Still, I don’t think I’d care that much. If there’s a choice between making republicans tremble in fear or Donna tremble in…whatever, I‘m picking her.

I open the door to the top of the stairs, music and laughter wafting up to me. I can’t help but smile. There was a part of me that wasn’t looking forward to this trip. For one thing, taking time off work always means the pile waiting for me when I get back seems insurmountable. Even our quick trips to Wisconsin and Florida forced me to spend extra hours at work for almost a week each time. Also, I’m not a huge fan of California. There’s nothing wrong with it, really, but the whole atmosphere is so laid back. It feels like there’s no drive to accomplish anything, even in areas like LA. It feels like all they want to do is work on their tan. Then there’s the fact that I’ve been feeling a little weird about the whole wedding and marriage thing. Normally I wouldn’t give any particular thought to the matrimony aspect but with all this being so close on the heels of my mom giving me the ring…it really is all I can think about right now. Donna walking down the aisle in her bridesmaid dress was instantly transformed into her walking at me in a gown at our own wedding. Danny and CJ exchanging their vows made me think about what I’d say to Donna in that situation—would we write our own, or go with something more traditional? I’m sure if my mother hadn’t essentially dropped a bombshell on me with that ring, I could just be benignly happy for my friends without trying to parallel everything to my life.

Still, despite all that, I’m happy I’m here. It’s good to be with so many friends in one place, celebrating something as happy as a wedding. A lot has happened in the last year and this is just what the doctor ordered. It’s worth it to play catch up at work. Hell, Donna’s first day of classes for the semester starts the day after tomorrow and she’s not complaining.

I push open the door and make my way into the room, my eyes immediately searching for Donna. She’s not hard to find---she’s the goddess in the middle of the dance floor, smiling radiantly at Sam, who has his arms wrapped around her. An odd surge of jealousy courses through me, though not because I think anything would happen with the two of them. It’s mostly because they look so…good together. Better than Donna with the best man. Sam’s only a couple of years younger than I am, but he seems mostly ageless, not looking that different now than he did ten years ago. Donna’s only gotten more gorgeous over the years. The two of them together look like they just crawled out of a photo shoot. I’m not usually insecure about my looks—most would probably call me cocky and they wouldn’t be wrong—but something about being with Donna makes me feel oddly insecure at times, though I know it’s all on me. She doesn’t do anything to make me question her commitment to me.

That doesn’t mean I can stop myself from feeling jealous when it looks like she fits so nicely with Sam. They’d probably have really attractive children.

She looks up then, her eyes finding me without hesitation. Even though it’s been a matter of minutes since we saw each other, her entire face lights up. Sam’s head comes up, too, and he grins at me. In that moment, for some reason, all of my insecurities disappear—at least for right now. I smile in response and make my way through the crowd.

“Hey. Mind if I?...” I ask, looking at both of them. Sam gives me a knowing look and loosens his hold on Donna. “Thanks.” He just claps my shoulder as I pull my girlfriend to me, shaking his head before he wanders off. “Weird guy,” I say, making Donna smile.

“Takes one to know one,” she answers, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Ouch. And you claim to love me.”

“It just so happens that weird guys are my favorite.”

“And what does that say about you?”

“’Do you really want to pull at that thread? Make me think too much about what I’m doing with you?”

While I’m almost one hundred percent sure she’s joking, why risk it? I tighten my arms around her and grin as charmingly as possible. I think it works because she snuggles herself into me. It’s not even a terribly slow song but no one seems to notice or care that we’re not moving very fast.

I look around the reception space, smiling as I see so many happy faces. CJ’s aggressively moving Charlie around on the dance floor; he only looks mildly terrified. Danny’s moving around with his sister while his best man dances with Zoey. Will Bailey and Kate Harper are dancing together while trying to look like they’re not enjoying each other. Sam has already been swept up by Danny’s mother. He smiles gamely at her, though from the look in his eyes, I think she’s putting the old lady moves on him.

“You’re not bored, are you?” she asks me. “Did you want to leave or…”

“Hell no. I want to be here as long as you want to be here. We can sleep on the plane if we have to.”

She laughs, tightening her hold on me. “We’ve hardly gotten any sleep in months—what does it matter now?”

I chuckle in agreement, the song we’re dancing to fading into the next, one that apparently everyone approves of, at least judging by the loud whoop that goes up from the crowd. They all seem to know it, too, because everyone is somewhat drunkenly singing along.

“Do I know this one?” I ask Donna as surreptitiously as I can.

“Josh!” she exclaims. “It’s Queen!”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. I know…her.” She sighs—I can’t help it if I’m more of a classical music guy than I am a fan of the modern stuff—but the little piano riff fades out and the song starts up again. “Hey! Yeah! I know this! This is Queen! This is a good song!”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You think?”

I just grin and try to sing along, but it turns out I don’t know as many of the words as I thought I did. She just shakes her head at me though she smiles fondly.

“Can anybody find me somebody to love?” I croon at her at the top of my lungs, nearly drowned out by the rest of the crowd. Donna cringes a little—and since my singing voices leaves something to be desired, I don’t blame her—but at least she doesn’t pull away. Still I tighten my arms around her, just in case.

“I work hard every day. I work ‘til I ache in my bones.” This seems to be another moment tonight where a song fits my life. I suppose, if you listen hard enough, most of them can. Between all the wine and the general romance of the atmosphere, it’s not surprising that I’m feeling sentimental.

I glance around at my friends and other guests, all of them flushed and happy, many of them tipsy, singing along with Queen at the top of their lungs, dancing in pairs and groups, arms slung over shoulders. It’s a good moment—a room full of people, many of them strangers to each other, bonding over something as simple as a song, all gathered together to celebrate the marriage of two people.

I’m really glad I’m here.

“But everybody wants to put me down; they say I’m going crazy…”

CJ and Danny catch my eye—seems they’ve found their way back to each other—side by side, surrounded by people . Their attention is focused anywhere but on each other but their hands are clasped tightly, leaving no doubt about what happened here today and how pleased they are with the result.

“Got no common sense, got nobody left to believe in.’

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!” Donna answers, absently, though—not in direct response to me but just to sing along.

Donna. The absolute love of my life. She makes my life worth living. It’s ridiculous. I can’t stop lamenting about it, even to myself. I never expected it to be like this, this constant happiness. Even when we argue and fight—which we do with each other all the time—I’m still always happy underneath it all. I never question if being with her is the right thing. I’m happy that I get to fight with her at all. I’m happy that after all this time…she wants to be with me. I love that as silly and as goofy as she could be at times back when she worked for me, she’s even more so at home. I love that despite the fact that she’s grown up a lot in the last few years and is a lot more serious at work, we still have so much fun together and that the seriousness hasn’t taken over her life. I love that she lets me see her at her most vulnerable and that she trusts me with her secrets and that it feels like I know everything about and somehow learn something new every day.

I never expected falling love with her, being loved by her, to be so easy. I didn’t imagine it would feel like everything fell into place. Life became so much better when I stopped fighting my feelings.

“Find me somebody to love.”

The noise in the room drops considerably and I glance around. Everyone’s still gathered but because the song has gotten softer, all of their voices have, too. It’s absurd and so much fun. All these people performing with a song, somehow making it cohesive despite the fact that it couldn’t possibly be planned.

“Find me somebody to love, find me somebody to love.”

I don’t know most of the lyrics but the chorus isn’t hard and this part is easy to keep up with. I know enough of it to know the rhythm.

“Somebody, somebody, somebody, somebody, somebody find me, somebody find me somebody to love.”

I grab Donna’s hand, leading her in a slow, loose version of a waltz, not surprised to find other couples doing much the same. She smile at me, her mouth moving along with the words, her voice lost in the mix. “Can anybody find me…” I twirl her out as Freddie’s voice goes up, making her laugh in surprise as she spins. “Somebody to…” I pull her back, barely giving her any time to recover before I drop her into a dip. “Love,” I sing as best I can. Her eyes soften, so does her smile, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders, thought I don’t think it’s because she’s afraid I’ll drop her.

For just a few moments, the world around me fades away. The boisterous crowd turns into white noise, their faces drift away, and all that exists is me and Donna and this moment. Her eyes, dark blue in this light, gaze back at me—I swear she’s caught in the same bubble as I am. She’s my future. She’s where I’m going to spend forever, regardless of when or if we get married. I love her with my whole heart. I’ve turned into a sappy, over-the-top romantic who sings to his girlfriend at a wedding, that doesn’t care who sees or hears them because the person that matters most is smiling at him like the sun revolves around him…it makes me feel invincible. It makes me want to make the world a better place for her…and anyone else who might come along.

“I love you,” she whispers, her words somehow reaching my ears despise the noise around us.

“I love you more,” I answer.

“Not even possible.” Before we can go back and forth about it, she angles her head up, pressing her lips to mine.

Slowly, we manage to right ourselves, lips gradually parting so we’re not completely stealing CJ and Danny’s thunder. The world around us slowly returns to normal, the music blaring through the sound system, the people singing along, the crush of bodies on the dance floor. Donna and I turn slowly, holding each other close. Her face is buried in my neck. I can hear her humming along with the music. I give the side of her head a kiss and sigh contentedly. This moment—this evening—couldn’t be more perfect if someone scripted it. Tomorrow, real life starts up again; everything will be a rush from the moment we wake up before dawn to catch our flight home with little to no down time before heading back to work on Monday, and this week away from it all will fade away all too quickly. I’m sure it’ll be a while before we’re able to get away for so much as a weekend—between work and Donna’s classes at Georgetown, we’ll be lucky to spend an hour together at home in the evenings. I’m determined to make every moment of this night count. It’s not often I get to spend time with this many of my friends at once.

Donna’s arms tighten around me as the song fades out and she lifts her head. I don’t hesitate before pressing my lips to hers once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this in one of my notebooks on 4/22 and by some weird coincidence, finished writing it on 8/22. When I was typing it up, I thought it’d be awesome if I could finish typing this on 12/22 and lo and behold, I did it. (I just wish I’d started typing on a 22) The editing process took so much longer but, you know, goals. I now wish I’d been able to get this posted by 3/22, just for some fun symmetry but what are you gonna do?
> 
> Here’s the link for Donna’s dress, in case anyone is interested. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/133559945183672574/ (if you’re not on AO3, the link won’t show up, so after you go to Pin Terest, you’ll put in pin then back slash, then 133559945183672574) I stumbled across it on Pinterest forever ago and I think the dress and “Something Happened On The Way To Heaven” is what helped make this story come into being.
> 
> I hope everyone out there is as healthy as can be and you’re all taking care of yourselves and each other, though at a safe distance. This is some wild stuff we’ve got going on right now. I’m still considered essential in my job (and ultimately I’m grateful for that) so I’m not stuck in quarantine and can only self-isolate so much. So, I don’t have time to just write endlessly. However, those of you that are healthy and forced to stay home…I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re gonna need you to start producing some stuff for us to read. But seriously, take care of yourselves, in whatever way you need to right now.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this story for what feels like forever. It started with a very vague concept for just one moment (a moment that will be very poorly executed at some point later on) and evolved into a monster. It was all hand-written initially and then I typed it up so badly that a lot of it was gibberish so I’ve had to work on essentially translating it. At any rate, I hope you enjoy. There’s more to come. Also, did any of you get to the West Wing Weekly podcast finale? It was awesome, wasn’t it?


End file.
